A  TALE  OF  THE  WAR  IN  THE  WEST 


BOB    BRANT, 


PATEIOT    AND    SPY. 


BY    EDWARD    WILLETT. 


NEW    YORK: 
SINCLAIR    TOUSEY,    PUBLISHERS'    AGENT, 

NO.    121   NASSAU   STREET. 


A  TALE  OF  THE  WAR  IN  THE  WEST. 


BOB    BRANT, 


PATEIOT    AND    SPY. 


BY    EDWARD    WILLETT. 


NEW    YORK: 

SINCLAIR    TOUSEY,    PUBLISHERS'    AGENT, 

NO.    121   NASSAU   STREET. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the 

Year  1864,  by  Sinclaik  Touset,  Publisher's  Agent,  in  the  Clerk's  Office  ol  tfio  District 

Court  of  the  United  States  for  the  Southern  District  of  New  York. 


BOB  BRANT, 


PATRIOT      AND      SPY. 


CHAPTER    L 

Early  L\fe  of  the  Hero. 

The  guns  with  which  Beauregard  opened 
fire  upon  Fort  Sumter,  made  a  great  noise 
in  the  world,  much  greater,  it  is  probable, 
than  ,any  of  the  artillerists  who  directed  or 
worked  them  supposed  they  did  or  could 
make.  They  sounded  in  the  remotest  cor- 
ners of  the  civilized  world,  and  struck  ter- 
ror to  the  hearts  of  cotton  operatives  in  Lan- 
cashire and  Lyons,  as  surely  as  they  inspired 
with  patriotic  indignation  the  loyal  millions 
of  the  North.  Their  echoes  resounded 
through  every  city,  town,  and  village  of  the 
land,  and  caused  a  commotion  and  an  ex- 
citement such  as  had  never  been  known  be- 
fore, and  such  as  few,  if  any,  had  expected. 

To  the  call  of  the  President  for  the  seven- 
ty-five thousand  men  who  were  to  march 
triumphantly  through  Secessia,  and  take, 
hold,  and  possess  "  the  forts  and  other  United 
States  property"  in  that  still  unsubdued  re- 
gion, no  people  responded  more  readily  and 
enthusiastically  than  the  inhabitants  of  the 
small  village  of  B ,  in  one  of  the  coun- 
ties of  New  York,  bordering  on  the  Hudson. 
Intense  excitement  prevailed  among  the 
young  and  the  old,  and  a  full  company, 
which  was  all  that  could  be  accepted  from 
the  locality,  was  immediately  raised,  while 
some  ardent  and  patriotic  youths  sought  en- 
listments in  regiments  that  were  raised  at  a 
distance.  Among  the  young  men  who  were 
expected  to  be  the  most  active  in  answering 
the  call  of  the  country,  was  Robert  Brant, 
generally  called  Bob  Brant,  the  son  of  a 
substantial  farmer  of  that  neighborhood. 
Young  Brant  had  seen  twenty-two  sum- 
mers, and  probably  just  as  many  winters. 
He  was  a  little  above  the  medium  hight, 
small  limbed,  but  compact,  his  frame  indi- 


cating great  activity  and  endurance.  He 
was  neither  handsome  nor  unhandsome, 
thus,  being  indifferently  fitted  for  the  hero 
of  a  love  story ;  but  in  his  broad  forehead, 
keen  gray  eyes,  compressed  lips  and  solid 
chin,  were  written  courage  and  penetration, 
with  great  firmness  and  determination. 
About  the  corners  of  his  mouth  lurked  a 
love  of  the  ludicrous,  and  good  temper  and 
strong  affections  were  impressed  upon  his 
features.  A  calm,  equable,  and  quiet  na- 
ture was  his,  not  easily  excited,  and  seeming 
to  grow  cooler  and  calmer  in  the  presence 
of  danger,  or  of  any  emergency  which  called 
for  the  use  of  his  highest  faculties.  In  fact, 
he  had  never  been  taught  in  his  boyhood, 
as  too  many  children  are,  what  to  fear,  and 
had  not  yet  learned  it.  He  was  skilled  in 
all  athletic  exercises,  especially  in  swim- 
ming, having  saved  a  companion  from 
drowning,  at  the  imminent  peril  of  his  own 
life,  before  he  was  out  of  his  teens ;  and 
had  made  it  a  part  of  his  education  to  bring 
his  frame  as  near  to  perfection  as  he  could. 
Take  him  all  in  all,  Bob  Brant  was  a  strong 
man,  in  every  sense  of  the  term,  and  was 
loved,  respected,  or  feared  by  those  who 
knew  him,  according  to  their  acquaintance 
with  the  man  and  appreciation  of  him. 

The  only  son  of  his  father — his  mother 
being  dead,  Robert  had  enjoyed  the  advant- 
age of  an  excellent  education,  and  had  made 
a  tour  over  a  considerable  portion  of  the 
Union,  which  had  added  greatly  to  his 
worldly  wisdom,  in  increasing  his  knowl- 
edge of  men  and  things.  Having  graduated 
at  a  military  school,  his  services  were  de- 
sired in  the  first  regiment  that  was  formed 
in  his  native  county,  and  he  was  offered  a 
Lieutenant's  commission,  which  he  refused, 
to  the  surprise  of  all  his  friends.  He  did 
not  condescend  to  explain  his  refusal,  simply 
saying  to  those  who  pressed  his  acceptance : 


^ib 


BOB   BRANT,   PATRIOT   AND    SPY. 


"When  you  come  back,  the  war  -will 
begin." 

The  regiment  went  to  the  field,  fully  ex- 
pecting to  conquer  a  speedy  peace,  and  re- 
turned at  the  expiration  of  their  term  of 
service,  shortly  after  the  close  of  the  cam- 
paign which  ended  with  the  disastrous  and 
humiliating  spectacle  of  Bull  Run.  Its 
ranks  were  soon  filled  up  for  the  three  years' 
term,  and  Bob  Brant  was  again  urged  to 
accept  a  commission,  but  again  declined. 
It  begun  to  be  hinted  that  his  loyalty  was 
questionable,  and  one  indiscreet  soldier  ac- 
cused him  of  being  either  a  traitor  or  a 
coward,  but  received  a  knock-down  blow 
for  his  only  reply,  and  thereafter1,  no  one 
ventured  openly  to  question  either  Bob 
Brant's  courage  or  patriotism. 

The  regiment  again  went  to  the  war,  and 
Bob  quietly  continued  his  farming  occupa- 
tions, until  the  vast  army  which  was  there- 
after to  be  known  in  history  as  the  army  of 
the  Potomac  was  organized  by  General  Mc- 
Clellan,  and  the  hosts  of  the  Union  were 
ready  at  all  points  to  meet  the  enemy. 

One  evening,  on  his  return  from  the  field, 
he  told  his  father  that  it  would  be  necessary 
to  get  a  farm-hand  in  his  place,  as  he  was 
going  away. 

"  Where  are  you  going,  Robert  ?" 

"  I  am  going  to  try  to  serve  my  country, 
and  will  not  return  alive  while  this  war  lasts." 
■  "  But  this  is  strange,  my  son,"  said  the 
astonished  Squire  Brant.  "  You  twice  re- 
fused a  commission  in  your  own  home  regi- 
ment, and  I  do  not  see  how  you  can  better 
yourself  elsewhere.  Some  of  your  neigh- 
bors have  been  free  in  calling  you  a  seces- 
sionist, but  I  have  had  no  fear  of  that,  I 
hope,  however  that  you  don't  intend  to  join 
the  rebel  army." 

"  There  is  not  a  drop  of  my  blood,  father, 
that  is  not  true  to  my  country,  and  you 
know  it,  so  that  it  is  useless  to  talk  about 
that.  I  know  a  way  in  which  I  can  be  of 
more  service  than  by  accepting  a  commis- 
sion, or  enlisting  in  a  regiment.  If  my  old 
friends  choose  to  call  me  a  secessionist,  it 
serves  my  purpose  that  they  should  do  so. 
My  path  is  not  their  path,  and  connection 
with  them  would  not  advance  my  plans. 
If  they  ever  hear  of  me,  they  will  have  good 
catnse  to  know  that  I  am  not  a  traitor." 

"  Are  you  fully  determined  upon  this  step, 
Robert,  and  do  you  feel  that  it  is  for  the 
best?"  said  the  squire,  who  placed  entire 
confidence  in  the  rectitude  of  intention  and 
good  judgment  of  his  son. 


"Fully  determined,  for  I  made  up  my 
mind  to  it  long  ago,  and  I  know  that  it  is 
the  best  I  can  do  to  serve  the  cause.  I  shall 
leave  to-morrow,  and  will  write  you  from 
Washington." 

"  Then  go,  my  son,  and  may  God  go  with 
you,  and  may  the  prayers  of  true  patriots 
attend  yon.  I  shall  feel  that  you  are  en- 
deavoring to  dq,vour  duty,  and  if  you  fall, 
I  shall  know  that  you  die  the  death  of  a 
brave  and  honorable  man." 

Without  more  ado,  Bob  Brant  packed  up 
a  few  articles  of  apparel,  took  a  good  supply 
of  money,  bid  farewell  to  his  sorrowing 
father,  and  left  the  old  homestead — perhaps 
forever. 

His  purpose  he  kept  to  himself,  but  it  will 
soon  appear. 


CHAPTER    II. 

Brant  in  Washington. 

To  Washington  Bob  Brant  quietly  bent 
his  course,  not  as  one  who  gayly  goes  forth 
to  seek  his  fortune  or  to  meet  adventures, 
but  with  a  solemn  purpose  in  his  heart, 
from  which  no  thoughts  of  clanger  or  of 
death  could  turn  him.  He  knew  that  his 
path  was  to  be  a  rough  one,  and  that  he 
would  owe  much  to  his  address  or  good 
fortune,  if  he  escaped  a  painful  and  igno- 
minious death.  He  also  felt  that  in  all  prob- 
ability he  would  get  little  thanks  for  his 
labor,  and  that  the  chances  were  in  favor  of 
poor  pay,  starvation,  and  a  solitary  death, 
far  from  friends  or  home.  But  of  one  thing 
he  was  assured,  that  he  could  serve  his 
country  in  the  course  he  had  chosen,  and 
serve  it  to  some  purpose.  As  he  had  said 
to  his  father,  he  was  "  fully  determined," 
and  consequences  were  not  to  be  thought  of. 

If  our  hero  could  have  been  discouraged,  • 
he  would  have  been  driven  back  upon  the 
threshold  of  his  undertaking.     As  he  was 
provided  with  a  letter  of  introduction  from 
the  member  of  Congress  of  his  district,  he 
was  civilly  received  at  the  Adjutant's  office, 
but  his  intention  was  sneered  at,  and  he 
was  told  that  he  could  not  be  recognized  in 
any  capacity  in  the  army ;  and  that  there  jg 
was  no  provision  for  payment  of  the  servicocj? 
in  which  he  sought  to  engage ;  consequent- 
ly, his  fate  must  take  care  of  itself,  and  his 
pocket  also. 

"  I  am  glad  to  say  that  I  am  able  to  de- 
fray my  own  expenses,"  said  Brant,  "  and 


BRANT   IN   CAIRO. 


as  for  my  life,  I  expect  to  carry  that  in  my 
hands.  I  only  desire  my  name  to  be  re- 
corded in  your  office,  so  that  I  may  refer  to 
you,  in  case  I  should  get  in  trouble  among 
our  own  men,  which  might  easily  happen. 
I  would  also  like  a  letter  to  some  General, 
who  would  not  object  to  my  operating  in 
his  department." 

"  "We  have  a  corps  of  scouts  here,"  said 
the  officer,  "  and  certainly  do  not  wish  to 
increase  them ;  but  we  can  give  you  cre- 
dentials to  the  commander  of  any  western 
post  that  you  care  to  visit;  and  if  you 
should  get  in  trouble,  and  it  should  be  con- 
venient for  you  to  refer  to  this  office,  we 
will  be  happy  to  testify  to  what  we  know 
of  you." 

Brant  was  satisfied,  as  it  was  useless  to 
be  otherwise.  He  felt  the  force  of  the  pro- 
verb, "  Blessed  are  they  who  expect  nothing, 
for  they  shall  not  be  disappointed."  He 
took  the  letter  that  was  given  him,  mutter- 
ing, "  small  favors  thankfully  received,"  and 
prepared  to  leave  for  the  West. 

Before  he  got  clear  of  the  dusty  and  po- 
litician-infested city,  Bob  Brant  had  several 
opportunities  of  seeing  the  members  of  the 
"  corps  of  scouts,"  with  which,  as  he  had 
been  informed  at  the  Adjutant's  office,  the 
army  of  the  Potomac  was  so  liberally  sup- 
plied. There  were  lounging  about  the  hotels 
and  bar-rooms,  a  number  of  young  men 
dressed  in  the  Federal  uniform,  mostly  at- 
tired as  officers,  who  all  seemed  to  have 
plenty  of  money,  which  they  drunk,  gam- 
bled, or  billiarded  away  with  a  perfect 
looseness.  This  appeared  to  be  the  sum 
total  of  their  occupation,  if  we  may  except 
a  continual  bragging  of  exploits  which  they 
had  never  performed,  but  which  each  was 
ready  to  swear  to  for  the  other.  Some  of  them 
were  attired  in  poor  imitations  of  Confeder- 
ate uniforms,  and  all  seemed  to  take  plea- 
sure in  publishing  their  business,  as  if  there 
were  no  secrecy  about  the  service.  Occa- 
sionally one  of  them  would  absent  himself 
for  a  while,  and  on  his  return  would  boast 
that  he  had  made  the  round  of  the  rebel 
camps,  and  profess  to  give  accurate  informa- 
tion of  the  numbers  and  designs  of  the  ene- 
my. But  it  is  probable  that  they  seldom 
went  further  South  than  Alexandria. 

"  None  of  that  for  me,"  said  Bob,  as  he 
shook  the  dust  of  "Washington  from  his  feet, 
and  took  the  cars  for  the  "West. 

Following  him,  he  next  "turns  up"  at 
the  semi-submarine  "  City"  of  Cairo,  at  the 
mouth  of  the  Ohio,  then  rising  into  import- 


ance as  the  great  military  depot  of  the  "West, 
the  point  from  which  have 'been  started  the 
important  expeditions  which  have  prostrated 
the  rebel  power  in  Kentucky  and  Tennessee, 
and  on  a  large  portion  of  the  Mississippi 
He  had  presented  his  letters  to  General 
Grant,  by  whom  he  had  been  favorably  re- 
ceived and  kindly  treated.  General  Grant 
was,  (and  still  is,  thank  God  !)  a  calm,  quiet, 
silent  man,  of  solid  parts,  strong  common 
sense,  clear  judgment,  great  energy,  and  in- 
domitable perseverance,  entirely  devoted  to 
his  profession.  He  was  also,  though  no 
talker,  an  excellent  judge  of  character,  and 
was  struck  with  the  cool  and  determined 
nature  of  young  Brant,  which  assimilated 
strongly  with  his  own.  The  more  the  firm 
purpose  and  steady  devotion  of  our  hero  be- 
came manifest  to  him,  the  more  the  General 
was  pleased  with  him,  and  promised  him 
all  possible  aid  and  protection. 

"  You  are  doubtless  aware,"  said  he,  "  of 
the  principal  points  we  must  reach.  The 
enemy  has  a  strong  force  and  extensive  for- 
tifications at  Columbus,  so  strong,  that  a  di- 
rect attack  would  involve  a  useless  waste 
of  life.  Their  principal  rendezvous  and 
camp  is  at  Jackson,  in  Tennessee.  At  Fort 
Henry,  on  the  Tennessee,  and  at  Fort  Don- 
elson,  on  the  Cumberland,  they  are  strongly 
fortified,  and  probably  have  as  many  men  as 
they  think  necessary  for  their  defense.  Of 
the  strength  of  these  garrisons,  we  can  only 
judge  from  the  contradictory  accounts  which 
reach  us  from  different  sources,  and  after 
all,  it  is  little  more  than  guess-work.  "We 
have  scouts  who  pretend  to  have  been  there, 
and  to  be  able  to  give  us  all  the  particulars ; 
but  I  have  no  confidence  in  them.  One  of 
them  gave  evidence  of  having  been  in  Co- 
lumbus, by  producing  letters  which  he  had 
stolen  from  the  room  of  a  rebel  officer  there ; 
but,  it  is  my  opinion  that  he  would  sell  one 
side  as  soon  as  another.  It  is  important 
that  we  should  know  more  than  we  do  of 
these  matters — but  it  is  dangerous  work, 
and  death  in  such  a  service  does  not  bring 
with  it  the  glory  that  is  found  upon  the 
battle-field.  Still,  I  would  not  dissuade  you 
from  what  I  plainly  perceive  you  consider 
your  duty.  There  are  many  loyal  men 
through  western  Kentucky  and  Tennessee, 
and  a  man  who  could  go  through  thfre 
with  his  life  in  his  hands  would  find  many 
friends,  if  he  could  learn  to  know  them." 

"  My  course  was  taken  a  long  time  ago," . 
replied  Brant,  "  and  I  think  no  considera- 
tions of  difficulty  or  danger  can  turn  me 


BOB   BRANT,   PATRIOT   AND   SPY. 


from  it.  I  thank  you  for  your  kindness 
and  sympathy,, and  can  only  ask  you  to  ex- 
tend to  me  what  facilities  you  conveniently 
can." 

"  You  shall  have  all  the  protection  that 
it  is  in  my  power  to  give,"  said  the  General ; 
"  but  I  fear  tbat  it  will  amount  to  little.  I 
can  say  this,  however ;  I  know  of  at  least 
ten  rebel  spies  around  our  camps,  men  who 
claim  to  be  citizens,  and  perhaps  are,  but 
who  take  every  possible  opportunity  to 
send  information  to  the  enemy.  They  are 
well  watched,  and  can  do  us  little,  if  any 
harm ;  but  I  would  be  glad  of  a  chance  to 
make  some  of  them  feel  the  weight  of  the 
laws  they  are  breaking.  If  the  rebels  should 
take  you  and  maltreat  you,  at  least  one  of 
these  fellows  will  hang." 

"  Don't  hang  any  one  on  my  account, 
General,  unless  he  ought  to  be  hung.  I  will 
try  hard  to  deserve  death  at  their  hands, 
before  I  meet  it,  and  will  get  my  satisfac- 
tion in  advance." 

"Don't  be  too  confident,  young  man," 
said  the  General,  as  he  thoughtfully  chewed 
his  cigar.  "  I  suppose  you  will  want  some 
money — " 

"  No,  thank  you ;  I  have  sufficient  for 
present  purposes.  If  I  come  back,  and 
should  be  '  short,'  perhaps  I  may  trespass 
on  your  kindness  to  cash  a  draft." 

"  You  must  be  in  earnest,  my  friend. 
Well,  I  must  introduce  you  to  Carson.  But 
no — you  will  see  him  soon  enough.  Good 
morning,  and  don't  be  in  a  hurry  to  leave. 
You  had  better  stay  here  a  few  days,  I  wish 
it.    I  will  provide  for  your  accommodation." 

Brant  had  seen  enough  of  the  General  to 
feel  that  his  wish  was  equivalent  to  a  com- 
mand, and  took  his  leave,  saying  that  he 
would  comply  with  his  desire. 


CHAPTER    III. 

Carson  tlie  Scout. 

After  finding  a  lodging  place,  Brant 
walked  around  the  levee  and  the  town,  to 
see  what  was  to  be  seen.  There  was  much 
bustle,  but  little  excitement.  In  the  camps, 
drills  and  parades  were  continually  going 
on,  and  soldiers  crowded  the  streets.  At 
the  levee,  there  were  groups  of  citizens  and 
soldiers,  and  a  boat  filled  with  troops  had 
arrived.  Others  were  lying  at  the  bank, 
discharging    ordnance    and    other    stores. 


Every  thing  betokened  preparation,  but  pre- 
paration only,  and  the  scene  was  a  busy  and 
interesting  one. 

It  was  hardly  more  than  an  hour  after 
his  interview  with  General  Grant,  that  Bob 
Brant,  as  he  was  sauntering  along  the  levee, 
felt  a  hand  upon  his  shoulder,  and  a  voice 
said  quietly : 

"  You  are  my  prisoner." 

Turning  around,  Bob  beheld  a  tall  figure, 
dressed  in  black,  but  wearing  a  military 
cap,  and  with  a  cavalry  sword  buckled  to. 
his  side. 

"  What's  the  matter  ?"  said  Bob,  conceal- 
ing his  astonishment. 

"  Never  mind — walk  down  to  the  guard- 
house, and  perhaps  you  will  find  out." 

"  All  right.  Show  the  way,  if  you  please, 
and  let  go  my  collar." 

"  I  think  I  have  you  safe,  when  I  hold 
your  collar." 

"  I  think  I  can  walk  alone,"  said  Bob, 
wrenching  himself  free. 

The  tall  figure  again  reached  for  his  col- 
lar, when  Bob  astonished  him  by  a  blow 
between  the  eyes  which  made  him  reel. 
Bob  thought  if  he  had  not  had  to  reach  so 
high,  he  would  have  "  fetched"  him. 

As  it  was,  the  person  he  had  struck  gave 
him  one  fierce  look,  and  beckoned  to  a 
couple  of  soldiers. 

"  Take  hold  of  this  man,"  said  he,  "  and 
follow  me.  to  the  guard-house." 

As  the  odds  were  against  him,  Bob  quietly 
succumbed,  and  marched  along,  closely  held 
by  a  soldier  on  either  side,  followed  by  many 
curious  eyes,  as  there  had  collected  quite  a 
crowd  near  the  scene  of  the  encounter. 

His  guide  stopped  at  a  hotel  near  the 
camp,  and  said  roughly,  turning  to  Brant : 

"  I  suppose  you  will  walk  up  to  my  room 
without  troubling  these  men,  or  would  you 
like  to  be  carried  up  ?" 

Bob  preferred  to  walk,  and  followed  his 
captor  up  stairs.  Entering  a  room,  the  lat- 
ter locked  the  door,  and  said,  as  he  handed 
his  prisoner  a  chair : 

"  I  hope  you  will,  excuse  the  rough  way 
I  have  taken  of  making  your  acquaintance. 
Your  name  is  Brant,  I  believe.  Mine  is 
Carson.  You  have  heard  of  me  from  Gen- 
eral Grant." 

Robert  intimated  that  he  had  heard  of 
him,  and  took  a  calm  survey  of  his  com- 
panion. 

"  Carson,  the  scout,"  as  he  is  known,  and 
will  be  hereafter,  in  the  history  of  the  war, 
was  a  long,  lean,  and  gaunt  young  man  of 


CARSONS   INSTRUCTIONS   TO   BRANT. 


twenty-eight  or  thirty  years,  with  high  cheek 
bones,  black  hair,  and  a  piercing  dark  eye. 
He  had  entered  the  service  in  a  cavalry 
company  from  Chicago,  and  when  the  com- 
pany left  for  the  East,  he  was  persuaded  to 
remain  with  the  force  at  Cairo,  where  his 
intrepidity  and  address  recommended  him 
to  the  Generals  commanding  that  post  as  a 
scout,  in  which  capacity  he  continued,  doing 
much  and  very  essential  service,  until  he 
met  his  death  at  the  bloody  battle  of  Fort 
Donelson,  where  his  head  was  taken  off  by 
a  cannon  ball.  He  always  went  on  his  ex- 
peditions alone,  and  made  many  audacious 
excursions  into  Missouri  and  Kentucky, 
noting  the  locations  of  rebel  camps  and  re- 
cruiting offices,  and  detecting  the  disloyal, 
at  times  bringing  in  two  or  three  prisoners 
together,  whom  he  had  taken  single-handed. 
He  never  knew  what  fear  was,  and  his  en- 
terprise and  ingenuity  equalled  his  courage. 
It  has  been  said  that  there  was  a  dash  of 
cruelty  in  his  disposition,  which  he  some- 
times unduly  displayed ;  but  he  was  a  brave 
man,  and  a  noteworthy  one.  At  all  events, 
he  is  now  a  historic  character. 

"I  must  say,"  said  Brant,  "that  it  is 
rather  a  hard  way  to  scrape  an  acquaint- 
ance, but  I  suppose  you  know  what  you  are 
doing." 

"  Of  course  I  do,  and  you  will  understand 
it  when  you  know  who  and  what  you  are. 
You  are  a  secesh,  from  Indiana.  Don't  be 
surprised;  there  are  lots  of  them  there. 
You  have  friends  down  South,  and  you  are 
trying  to  sneak  through  the  rebel  lines  to 
get  to  them ;  and  when  you  are  down  there, 
you  want  to  make  arrangements  to  ship 


ask  you  to  drink  as  often  as  you  want  to. 
Do  you  ever  drink,  though  ?" 
"  Scarcely." 

"  Well,  I  want  you  to  loaf  around  the 
bar-rooms,  of  which  there  are  plenty  here, 
and  don't  forget  to  edge  into  those  that  are 
kept  on  the  sly.  You  will  easily  find  sym- 
pathizing friends,  and  if  they  ask  you  to 
drink,  you  must  take  something  occasionally, 
for  that  is  the  social  style  here  and  else- 
where. "When  you  get  a  sure  passage  to 
Dixie,  and  letters  to  help  you  on  your  way, 
let  me  know." 

Young  Brant  was  then  left  free  to  go 
where  he  chose,  and  made  the  best  use  of 
his  time  in  strolling  around  the  levee  and 
frequenting  the  drinking  shops,  accompanied 
by  a  soldier  with  fixed  bayonet.  The  lat- 
ter, however,  took  care  not  to  be  too  near 
when  any  one  entered  into  close  conversa- 
tion with  his  prisoner.  The  rowdy  com- 
pany and  the  reeking  smell  of  the  generally 
crowded  bar-rooms  were  distasteful  to  the 
young  man,  but  it  was  part  of  the  business 
he  had  to  do,  and  he  went  through  it  as  he 
would  have  forded  a  river,  or  floundered 
through  a  s»vamp.  He  was  quite  an  object 
of  curiosity,  and  before  the  day  was  over 
had  made  several  acquaintances,  all  inclined 
to  be  gay  and  festive,  who  sympathized 
with  his  supposed  designs,  and  treated  and 
pumped  him  more  freely  than  was  agree- 
able. He  denied,  however,  any  disloyal  in- 
tention, though  by  his  manner  he  contrived 
to  leave  his  new  friends  certain  of  their 
man.  At  last,  after  a  long  conversation  in 
a  corner  with  a  well-dressed  man  who  un- 
bosomed himself  freely  of  his  secesh  sym- 


see,  I  found  all  this  out  before  you  did.  I 
shall  almost  think  myself  smart.  The  Gen- 
eral likes  you,  and  wants  me  to  set  you  up 
in  business,  and  this  is  the  best  way  to  do 
it.  This  arrest,  and  what  will  follow  it, 
will  get  you  an  easy  passage  into  Kentucky, 
if  you  play  your  cards  well,  and  make  you 
all  right  when  you  get  there." 

"  I  see  a  little  light,"  replied  Bob.  "  But, 
if  I  am  a  secesh  from  Indiana,  what  is  my 
name  ?" 

"  Well,  Errington — Henry  Errington,  that 
will  do  as  well  as  any.  Now,  you  must 
give  me  your  parole — no,  I  can't  take  your 
parole,  either — you  can  go  about  town  under 
guard  of  one  man,  who  won't  trouble  you 
much.  I  will  hint  around  who  you  are, 
and  what  you  are  under  arrest  for,  and  you 
will  soon  find  plenty  of  friends,  who  will 


over  a  lot  of  revolvers  and  gun  caps.     You  |  pathies,   he   felt   himself    touched   on   the 

shoulder  as  he  came  out,  and  on  looking 
around,  met  the  bright  eyes  of  the  inevit- 
able Carson. 

"  That's  your  man,"  said  the  scout. 

Robert  took  the  hint,  and  improved  his 
acquaintance  at  the  next  meeting,  and  car- 
ried out  his  assumed  character  of  a  secesh 
sympathizer  wishing  to  go  South.  The  re- 
sult was,  that  his  new  friend  went  to  head- 
quarters, and  certified  to  his  loyalty,  saying 
that  he  had  known  him  well  in  Indiana. 
Robert  was  set  free,  and  his  friend  was  per- 
mitted to  suppose  that  his  certificate  had  ef- 
fected his  release.  The  next  day,  the  young 
man  received  letters  to  parties  in  Jackson, 
Grand  Junction,  Memphis,  and  Tennessee,  in- 
troducing him  under  the  name  of  Henry  Er- 
rington, and  recommending  him  to  the  favor- 
able consideration  of  the  secesh  generally. 


BOB    BRANT,    PATRIOT    AND    SPY. 


Going  up  the  railroad  a  short  distance,  he 
struck  across  the  country,  in  company  with 
his  new-found  friend,  to  the  Ohio  River, 
which  he  crossed  at  Paducah,  where  he 
easily  got  within  the  rehel  lines. 


CHAPTER   TV. 

Bob  Brant's  interview  with  Major  Mercer. 

Jackson,  Tennessee,  is,  or  was  before  the 
war,  one  of  the  most  pleasant  villages  in 
the  State.  Next  to  Memphis,  it  was  the 
abode  of  the  wealth  and  fashion  of  "Western 
Tennessee,  and  was  distinguished  by  many 
fine  residences,  surrounded  by  beautiful 
gardens  and  grounds.  The  inhabitants 
were  generally  wealthy,  and  possessed  of  a 
fair  degree  of  intelligence  and  refinement. 
They  were  strong  and  "  original "  secession- 
ists, and  the  disunion  feeling  was  increased 
by  the  presence  of  a  large  rebel  force  in  the 
town.  It  was  one  of  the  principal  military 
rendezvous  of  the  rebel  forces  in  Western 
Tennessee,  their  chief  camps  of  instruction 
being  here  and  at  Grand  Junction.  The 
post  was  under  the  command  of  General 
Cheatham,  of  Tennessee,  and  the  force  was 
variable  in  numbers,  recruits  continually 
arriving,  and  trained  regiments  being  as 
constantly  sent  off.  Jackson  is  changed 
now,  and  its  people  have  reaped  a  portion 
of  the  reward  of  their  treason.  Most  of 
them  are  self-exiled  from  their  homes,  and 
those  pleasant  homes  have  felt  the  devas- 
tating touch  of  war,  and  are  pleasant  no 
longer. 

Nearly  a  mile  from  the  town,  a  little 
back  from  the  road,  stood  the  mansion  of 
Major  Mercer,  a  plain,  large,  and  roomy 
house,  surrounded  by  tall  trees  and  well- 
cultivated  grounds,  with  a  number  of  log 
buildings,  for  negro  quarters  and  other  pur- 
poses. Major  Mercer  was  a  gentleman  of 
Wealth  and  education,  well  known  and  re- 
spected in  that  region,  having  filled  several 
important  offices  under  the  State.  He  had 
not  been  an  "original"  secessionist,  but  had, 
for  some  time,  quietly  used  his  influence  in 
favor  of  the  Union.  Times  change,  how- 
ever, and  men  change  with  them.  .  Major 
Mercer,  after  a  while,  permitted  consider- 
ations of  policy  and  prudence  to  dictate  his 
course,  and  fell  into  the  secession  current. 
It  was  an  unwilling  submission,  made 
against  the  impulses  of  his  heart  and  the 


warnings  of  his  better  judgment;  but  U 
seemed  better  to  him  than  the  prosecution 
and  banishment  which  has  been  the  fate  of 
so  many.  Spite  of  his  change  of  course, 
Major  Mercer  was  soon  made  aware  that  he 
was  an  object  of  suspicion  to  his  neighbors, 
and  to  the  Confederate  authorities,  and  was 
continually  subjected  to  annoyances  which 
did  not  tend  to  increase  his  love  for  the 
new  state  of  things.  He  chafed  in  the 
harness,  and  the  hateful  surveillance  of  the 
military  commanders  and  the  despotic  gov- 
ernment of  the  Southern  oligarchy  became 
daily  mOre  insupportable  to  him.  On  sev- 
eral occasions  he  had  almost  resolved  to 
throw  off  the  slack  allegiance  which  he  held 
to  the  "  Confederate  States  of  America," 
but  the  thought  of  his  family  and  his  pro- 
perty restrained  him.  The  Major  was  a 
hale  and  hearty  man  of  about  sixty  years 
of  age,  greatly  loved  and  respected  by  his 
family,  which  consisted  of  his  wife,  his  son, 
Charles,  his  daughter,  Mabel,  and  twenty  or 
more  negroes  of  all  ages. 

Mrs.  Mercer  was  a  fine,  matronly  lady, 
entirely  devoted  to  her  family,  and  worthy 
to  be  the  mother  of  such  a  girl  as  MabeL 
Mabel  Mercer  had  reached  "  sweet  seven- 
teen," and  was  a  tall  and  spirited  dark-eyed 
beauty,  of  the  style  that  comes  to  maturity 
so  soon  in  the  South.  She  was  healthy, 
active,  and  full  of  life  and  animation,  the 
darling  of  her  parents,  and  greatly  beloved 
by  the  negroes  of  the  place.  Charles  was 
about  nineteen,  tall,  straight  and  handsome, 
and  prided  himself  upon  his  riding  and 
shooting  accomplishments. 

It  was  nearly  dusk  when  our  friend,  Bob 
Brant,  mounted  upon  a  nag  with  which  he 
had  been  supplied  by  one  of  his  secesh 
friends  in  Kentucky,  drew  rein  at  the  door 
of  Major  Mercer's  mansion,  and,  throwing 
his  bridle  to  a  grinning  darkey,  asked  for  the 
Major. 

Being  ushered  into  the  parlor,  he  was  re- 
ceived in  a  gentlemanly,  but  cool  manner, 
by  Major  Mercer,  who  had  grown  to  be  dis- 
trustful of  all  strangers.  Bob  merely  handed 
him  a  letter,  which  was  a  note  of  introduc- 
tion which  he  had  got  at  Paducah.  The 
Major  perused  it  carefully,  but  with  a  dis- 
pleased countenance,  occasionally  glancing 
at  the  bearer  of  the  letter,  as  one  would  eye 
a  snake  or  a  toad. 

"  Well,  sir,"  he  said,  at  last,  "  I  may  aa 
well  tell  you,  plainly,  that  there  is  no  use  in 
bringing  such  letters  to  me.  You  have 
come  to  the  wrong  shop  to  sell  your  sneaking 


MAJOR  MERCER  AND  BRANT. 


treason.  If  I  ever  supported  this  secession 
swindle,  and  I  am  ashamed  to  say  that  I 
have,  to  some  extent,  I  am  sick  of  it  now, 
and  I  care  little  who  knows  it.  I  under- 
stand you  are  a  Northerner,  Mr.  Errington." 

"  Yes,  sir ;  from  Indiana." 

"  Then,  sir,  I  will  give  you  my  opinion 
of  you,  and  if  it  will  do  you  any  good,  you 
are  welcome  to  it.  Our  Southerners,  trait- 
orous and  mean  though  they  are,  have  at 
least  some  excuse  for  their  attempt  to  sub- 
vert the  only  decent  government  ever 
established  on  earth;  but  you,  sneaking, 
despicable  men  of  the  North,  who  uphold 
them  in  their  course,  and  aid  and  abet  them, 
whether  you  do  it  from  motives  of  gain  or 
from  any  other  motive — you  certainly  can't 
have  any  better  one — are — well,  no  words 
can  measure  my  contempt  for  you.  There, 
sir,  you  can  report  my  words  to  General 
Cheatham,  or  any  one  else,  as  soon  as  you 
choose.  A  man  who  would  go  into  such 
an  abominable  business  as  you  are  engaged 
in,  is  just  mean  enough  to  do  so." 

The  Major's  face  was  almost  purple,  and 
his  manner  expressed  that  he  meant  every 
word  he  said.  Bob  began  to  feel  himself 
in  an  awkward  position,  especially  as  a  very 
well  defined  sneer  of  contempt  curled  the 
lip  of  the  fair  Mabel,  and  there  was  a 
twitching  motion  about  the  toe  of  Charley 
Mercer's  boot,  as  if  that  young  gentleman 
was  itching  to  try  his  kicking  abilities  on 
the  intruder. 

It  was  awkward  enough,  but  Brant  speed- 
ily formed  his  resolution.  Calmly  opening 
his  penknife,  he  slit  the  lining  of  his  vest, 
and  extracted  from  it  a  small  folded  paper, 
which  he  handed  to  the  Major. 

"  If  I  can't  sell  my  treason  here,  perhaps 
you  would  like  to  look  at  something  of  this 
kind." 

Major  Mercer  glanced  over  the  paper,  and 
read  as  follows : 

"  Headquarters,  Dep't.  of  Cairo,  ) 

"  Sept.  9th,  1861.  f- 

"  Pass  the  bearer,  Robert  Brant,  in  and  out 

of  the  lines  at  his  pleasure,  until  further 

orders,  on  service  of  this  command. 

"  U.  S.  Grant,  Com'dg." 

The  expression  of  the  Major's  counte- 
nance changed  instantly  from  anger  to  aston- 
ishment. He  eyed  his  visitor  more  kindly, 
but  still  suspiciously. 

"  I  don't  understand  this,  sir.  What  does 
it  mean  ?     Who  and  what  are  you  ?" 

Bob  answered  him  boldly,  and  almost 
defiantly.     He  was  by  no  means  sure  of 


the  ground  he  stood  on,  but  thought  it  best 
to  dash  right  through,  trusting  to  his  au- 
dacity and  ingenuity  to  bring  him  out 
safely. 

"  It  means  simply  this — that  I  am  in  the 
secret  service  of  the  United  States,  and  ex- 
pect to  stay  in  it  as  long  as  life  is  left  me, 
and  this  rebellion  lasts.  My  name  is  Robert 
Brant,  and  I  have  less  sympathy  with  rebels 
than  with  horse-thieves;  and  all  the  pistols 
they  will  get  from  me  may  be  put  in  the 
corner  of  Jeff  Davis'  eye,  without  interfering 
with  his  vision.  Now,  sir,  I  have  told  you 
the  truth ;  my  life  is  in  your  hands,  and,  as 
you  just  remarked,  you  can  report  my  words 
to  General  Cheatham,  or  any  one  else,  as 
soon  as  you  choose." 

Bob  Brant  was  bold  in  making  this  de- 
claration. In  fact  he  was  rash,  and  he  felt 
the  imprudence  and  danger  of  his  course. 
His  rashness  can  only  be  accounted  for  by 
the  bright  eyes  of  Mabel  Mercer,  which 
affected  bun  strangely,  and  made  him  think 
there  was  something  worth  loving,  besides 
his  country  and  his  flag.  He  felt  as  if  he 
would  rather  be  hung,  than  that  she  should 
regard  him  as  other  than  a  true  man. 

He  was  rewarded,  for  the  bright  eyes 
beamed  kindly  and  sympathetically  upon 
him,  and  the  sneer  which  had  curled  Mabel's 
lip  gave  place  to  a  smile. 

Charley  Mercer's  boot  stopped  tapping 
the  floor.  He  did  not  seem  desirous  of 
kicking  any  one. 

The  Major  sat  down  and  said  nothing. 
He  still  seemed  unsatisfied,  and  uncertain 
whether  to  welcome  his  guest  or  dismiss 
him.  The  matter  was  settled  by  the  soft 
voice  of  his  wife. 

"  I  think,  Mr.  Mercer,"  said  she,  "  that  the 
young  gentleman  had  better  stay  with  us 
to-night.  For  my  part,  I  am  prepared  to 
trust  him,  and,  since  he  has  reposed  so  dan- 
gerous a  confidence  in  us,  I  think  we  can 
do  no  less  than  be  equally  generous  with  him.1 

The  smile  that  then  lit  up  Mabel's  face 
was  certainly  one  of  assent,  and  Charley 
Mercer  broke  in  with : 

"  As  far  as  I  am  concerned,  I  am  willing 
to  bet  on  him." 

Bob  Brant  felt  better,  but  still  retained 
his  bold  and  defiant  look,  except  when  he 
glanced  at  Mabel,  in  whose  countenance  he 
saw  an  interest  and  a  sympathy  which  he 
was  glad  to  have  excited.  He  felt  that  if 
he  should  not  be  able  to  sell  his  imaginary 
pistols,  he  would  have  no  trouble  in  dispos- 
ing of  a  heart. 


10 


BOB  BRANT,  PATRIOT  AND  SPY. 


CHAPTER    V. 
The  Scout  at  Major  Mercer's. 

So  the  matter  was  settled,  for  Major 
Mercer,  although  still  unsatisfied,  was  ac- 
customed to  rely  much  upon  the  impulses, 
as  well  as  the  judgment  of  his  wife. 

Mrs.  Mercer  rung  a  bell,  and  instantly  en- 
tered a  stalwart  darkey,  bright-eyed  and 
grinning,  the  suddenness  of  whose  appear- 
ance might  easily  induce  the  belief  that  he 
had  been  listening  at  the  door.  Mrs.  Mercer 
was  plainly  of  this  opinion. 

"  Pharaoh,"  said  she,  "  have  you  been  list- 
ening to  what  we  have  been  saying  ?" 

"No,  Miss  Car'line,  I'd  jes'  come  up  the 
starway,  an'  was  gwine  on  up  when  the  bell 
rung." 

"  Well,  tell  Jim  to  take  care  of  this  gen- 
tleman's horse,  and  you  take  his  carpet-bag 
np  to  the  north  room,  and  have  Betse  see 
that  the  room  is  in  order." 

"  Oh,  yes,  Miss  Car'line,  I'll  tell  Jim,  and 
Til  take  the  baggage  up  stars,  right  away, 
I's  glad  to  take  his  baggage,  I  tell  you,"  said 
the  negro,  grinning  from  ear  to  ear,  and 
looking  wondrously  sly. 

"  What  do  you  mean,  Pharaoh  ?  Don't 
stand  there  like  a  laughing  hyena,  but  tell 
me,  instantly." 

u  Oh,  Miss  Car'line  and  Massa  Harry,  that 
young  gen'leman  won't  hurt  ye.  He's  one 
of  the  right  sort  He's  all  right  on  the 
goose." 

"  Why,  you  black  scoundrel,  what  do  you 
know  about  the  young  gentleman  ?"  thun- 
dered Major  Mercer,  rising  from  his  seat. 
Bob  was  also  surprised,  for  he  could  not  re- 
member that  he  had  ever  seen  the  sooty 
features  of  Pharaoh. 

"  Oh,  Massa  Harry — now,  Massa  Harry — 
don't  you  go  to  put  yourself  in  a  passion, 
I  ain't  done  no  harm.  But  I  seen  that 
young  gen'leman  afore,  Massa  Harry,  and  I 
■know  he's  one  of  the  right  sort." 

"  Pharaoh,  what  does  this  mean?"  said 
the  perplexed  Major.  "Where  have  you 
«een  him,  and  when  ?" 

"  Now,  Massa  Harry,  don't  you  go  to  put 
yourself  in  a  passion,  I  ain't  done  no  harm. 
I  knew  you  and  Miss  Car'line  ain't  none  of 
them  sheceshers,  and  you  don't  like  'em,  no 
more'n  they  don't  like  you,  and  I  ain't  done 
no  harm.  But  you  know,  Massa  Harry, 
when  you  sent  me  'way  up  to  Massa  Wil- 
liam's to  help  him  with  hia  tobacca  ?" 

"  Yes,  what  of  it  ?" 


"  Well,  Massa  Harry,  I  done  didn't  go 
thar  at  all,  but  struck  across  the  woods  and 
the  canebrakes,  and  made  a  straight  chute 
for  Cairo,  and  there  I  saw  all  the  sogers, 
and  the  splendid  officers,  an'  the  forts,  an' 
the  big  guns,  and  lots  of  folks,  and  I  saw 
him,  too,"  said  Pharaoh,  pointing  at  Bob 
Brant. 

"  What  did  you  see  of  me  ?"  said  Bob, 
who  was  as  much  astonished  as  Major  Mer- 
cer himself. 

"  Guess  I  seen  you  when  Massa  Carson 
put  his  paws  on  you,  and  you  hit  him  that 
clip  in  the  face.  Hi !  Massa  Carson  mighty 
sharp  feller,  if  he  do  look  ugly  an'  hungry. 
He  tole  me  you  war  comin'  down  here,  an' 
he  tole  me  to  look  after  you,  an'  help  you 
if  I  could.  You  seen  ole  Bill  Woodworth 
yet?" 

"  Old  Bill  Woodworth  !"  said  our  hero. 
"  No,  I  don't  know  any  such  man." 

"  Well,  ole  Bill  knows  you,  and  he'll  see 
you  'fore  long.  He's  one  of  dem  scoutchers, 
too,  but  he  don't  dast  come  'round  here — 
they  know  him  too  well." 

As  Major  Mercer  still  stood  astonished, 
not  knowing  what  to  say,  Pharaoh  went  on 
eagerly  to  make  a  further  explanation  : 

"  You  see,  Massa  Harry,  I  tole  them  offi- 
cers, the  Adjuram-Gen'l  an'  the  rest,  that  we 
wasn't  all  sheceshers  down  here,  and  that 
our  folks  wasn't  sheceshers  at  all,  though 
we  didn't  know  how  long  we  could  hole  out ; 
and  they  tole  me  we  must  jest  hole  out  any 
how,  and  Massa  Linkum's  army  would  be 
down  here,  'fore  long ;  and  they  axed  me, 
wouldn't  I  like  to  stay  up  there  an'  be  free, 
an'  I  tole  'em  I  wasn't  gwine  to  leave  the 
old  woman  an'  the  chilluns,  an'  wasn't 
gwine  to  leave  Massa  Harry  an'  our  folks 
neither.  And  Massa  Carson  tole  me  to  come 
right  straight  down  here,  an'  he  showed  me 
that  young  gen'leman,  and  says,  if  I  see  him 
down  here,  I  must  'member  he's  an  awful 
shecesher,  an'  he  mind  him  eye,  and  I  know 
how  big  a  shecesher  he  is.     Hi !" 

"  That  will  do,  Pharaoh,"  said  Major 
Mercer.  "Now  take  the  carpet-bag  up 
stairs,  and  have  the  horse  attended  to,  and 
mind  you  keep  your  mouth  shut  before  the 
rest  of  the  servants." 

"  And,  Pharaoh,"  said  his  mistress,  "  no 
more  of  your  listening  at  key-holes  in  this 
house." 

"  Oh,  Miss  Car'line  !"  ejaculated  the  grin- 
ning African,  as  he  skedaddled  with  Bot 
Brant's  small  amount  of  baggage. 

Major  Mercer  gave  a  sigh  of  relief  as  he 


A   FAMILY    CONFERENCE. 


11 


resumed  his  seat,  and  his  countenance  looked 
much  brighter  than  it  had  during  the  even- 
ing. Reaching  out  his  hand  to  our  hero,  he 
said: 

"  You  will  pardon  me,  Mr.  Brant,  or 
rather  Mr.  Errington,  as  we  must  call  you 
here,  for  my  suspicions.  But  our  circum- 
stances compel  us  to  be  distrustful  of  stran- 
gers, and  you  must  admit  that  you  came  in 
a  very  questionable  guise." 

"  Of  course,  Major  Mercer,  I  fully  under- 
stand your  situation,  and  you  do  not  owe 
me  any  apology.  Allow  me  to  say  that  the 
revelations  of  your  man,  Pharaoh,  have  sur- 
prised me.  I  have  no  doubt  that  he  has 
told  you  the  trutb,  for  the  Carson  he  speaks 
of,  is  a  scout  in  the  Union  service,  and  he 
made  a  sham  arrest  of  me,  in  order  to  give 
me  the  character  described  in  the  letter  of 
introduction  which  I  presented  to  you." 

"  It  has  let  in  a  new  light  upon  me," 
answered  the  Major.  "I  feel  now,  as  I 
have  not  felt  for  a  long  time,  that  the  world 
is  not  made  up  of  traitors,  and  that  we  have 
a  country  yet,  with  the  power  and  the  will 
to  save  us  from  secession  despotism.  But 
this  is  a  dangerous  trade  you  have  taken  up, 
sir,  and  I  hope,"  he  continued,  his  fears  for 
his  family  and  his  property  inducing  a  re- 
turn of  his  timidity,  "  that  your  presence 
here  may  not  endanger  the  safety  of  my 
family;  for  I  must  temporize,  sir,  I  must 
temporize." 

Bob  blushed,  not  for  himself,  but  for  Ma- 
jor Mercer's  manhood,  and  an  indignant 
flush  spread  over  the  cheeks  of  Mrs.  Mercer 
and  Mabel. 

"  As  for  the  danger  to  myself,"  said  our 
hero,  "  I  have  found,  so  far,  that  the  peril  is 
less  than  I  had  supposed  it  to  be,  and  see 
no  reason  to  fear  for  myself.  As  for  com- 
promising you,  I  can  assure  you,  that  if  I 
am  found  out  by  the  enemy,  it  will  not  be 
here ;  and  I  am  certain,  that  so  far  from  en- 
dangering your  safety,  the  chances  are  that 
I  will  be  able  to  render  you  some  service. 
I  am  not  at  all  rash  or  careless,  although 
my  disclosure  of  myself  to  you  might  cause 
you  to  think  so  ;  but  I  was  induced  to  do  that 
by  an  impulse  which  I  felt  must  be  right, 
and  I  did  not  wish  to  appear  to  your  — 
family  —  Bob's  eye  was  on  Mabel  as  he 
spoke — in  the  light  of  a  sneaking  Northern 
traitor." 

"Pardon  me  again,"  said  the  Major. 
"  Pardon  me.  I  love  my  family  so  deeply, 
and  fear  for  them  so  much,  that  the  tbought 
of  them  sometimes  makes  me  a  coward,  as 


it  has  almost  made  me  a  traitor.  Wife  and 
son,  draw  up  your  chairs,  and  you  too,  Ma- 
bel. We  must  be  careful  how  we  talk,  even 
among  ourselves,  for  some  ears  might  be 
listening  which  are  not  as  honest  as  those 
of  old  Pharaoh." 

The  family  then  drew  closely  together, 
and  discussed  the  present  and  the  future  in 
an  anxious  but  quiet  tone.  Whether  by  ac- 
cident or  design,  Mabel  Mercer  sat  very  near 
to  Bob  Brant,  and  as  he  heard  her  soft  and 
musical  voice  chime  in  the  conversation, 
like  sweet  bells  sounding  afar  off,  and  at 
times  caught  the  rich  odor  of  her  warm 
breath,  he  was  lifted  into  an  elysium,  and 
his  brain  whirled  until  he  found  it  difficult 
to  fix  his  mind  upon  the  matter  in  hand. 
He  felt  as  if  he  would  like  to  spy  into  her 
heart,  and  organize  himself  into  a  foraging 
party  to  capture  her  love,  and  then  confis- 
cate her  in  the  name  of  the  Union — not  the 
"  old"  Union,  but  the  kind  of  Union  that  a 
minister  is  needed  to  consummate.  If  Gen- 
eral Grant  could  have  known  his  feelings 
then,  he  might  have  distrusted  the  discretion 
of  his  young  scout. 

They  talked  long  and  earnestly;  Bob 
urged  upon  Major  Mercer  the  policy  of 
moving  up  into  a  free  State,  if  he  could  get 
away,  taking  a  farm  and  hiring  his  negroes 
on  it,  if  he  could  get  them  away.  Of  course 
the  young  man  could  not  have  been  think- 
ing of  Mabel,  when  he  made  this  very  sen- 
sible proposition.  The  Major  was  puzzled 
about  his  negroes  and  his  other  property. 
Brant  said  that  the  negroes,  in  any  event, 
would  have  to  follow  the  fortune  of  war, 
and  if  the  family  staid  at  Jackson,  it  was 
probable  that  the  rebels  would  drive  them 
further  South,  and  if  not,  the  progress  of 
the  Union  armies  would  force  them.  If  the 
Major  wished  to  promote  their  welfare,  and 
had  confidence  in  them,  it  would  be  better 
to  keep  tbem  near  the  North,  as  they  would 
never  be  of  any  use  to  him  if  taken  further 
South.  The  Major  recognized  the  justness* 
of  these  remarks,  but  was  still  perplexed, 
and  even  spoke  of  the  high  prices  he  ■could 
get  for  them  down  below. 

Tbis  was  too  much  for  Mabel  and  her 
mother,  who  scouted  the  idea  of  selling  any 
of  their  servants. 

"  I  had  rather  see  them  all  free,"  said  the 
matron,  forcibly. 

"  Sell  them  for  what  ?"  said  Mabel,  "  for 
Confederate  money  ?  Don't  let  your  fears 
for  us  run  away  with  you,  father." 

The  matter  was  settled  at  last,  as  mattera 


12 


BOB  BRANT,  PATRIOT  AND  SPY. 


generally  were,  by  the  clear  sense  of  Mrs. 
Mercer,  who  proposed  that  they  should 
move,  as  soon  as  they  could,  to  her  brother's 

farm,  in County,  Kentucky,  as  he  had 

land  enough  and  to  spare,  with  a  good  house 
that  was  empty.  After  the  many  objections 
of  the  Major  had  been  overruled,  this  plan 
was  generally  agreed  to,  and  as  the  conver- 
sation had  reached  late  into  the  night,  the 
family  dispersed  to  bed,  with  lighter  hearts 
than  they  had  known  for  a  long  time. 

As  Bob  Brant  laid  down,  his  head  and 
heart  were  full  of  Mabel  Mercer,  to  the  ex- 
clusion of  everything  else,  and  it  was  some 
time  before  his  excited  thoughts  would  suf- 
fer him  to  stop. 


CHAPTER    VI. 
Divided  Duty  of  Bob  Brant. 

Our  hero  was  astonished,  on  waking 
from  his  sound  but  not  dreamless  sleep,  to 
see  the  sun  shining  through  his  window. 
He  was  also  saluted  by  a  mocking-bird  in  a 
cage  not  far  off,  (in  Mabel's  room,  as  he 
thought,)  which  seemed  to  have  learned  a 
new-  tune.  It  said,  as  his  half-wakened 
senses  translated  it : 

"  Bob  Brant's — a  humbug.  Bob  Brant's 
— a  humbug." 

And  it  struck  Bob  that  he  was  a  humbug. 
He  asked  himself  severely,  if  that  was  any 
way  to  attend  to  the  business  to  which  he 
had  devoted  his  life,  to  fall  in  love  at  the 
start  (as  he  could  not  help  confessing  that 
he  had)  with  a  girl  he  had  never  seen  be- 
fore, and  to  permit  her  image  to  occupy  his 
mind  and  heart,  to  the  damage,  if  not  de- 
struction of  the  serious  affairs  he  had  un- 
dertaken. His  life  was  too  dangerous,  he 
said  to  himself,  to  ask  her  to  share  it,  even 
if  she  could  be  induced  to  do  so.  On  the 
spur  of  the  moment,  Bob  Brant  formed  sev- 
eral very  excellent  resolutions,  of  which,  not 
the  easiest  was,  that  he  would  thereafter 
shut  out  all  thoughts  of  Mabel  Mercer.  He 
dressed  himself  and  went  down  stairs,  look- 
ing savagely  solemn. 

As  he  stepped  out  into  the  garden,  he 
heard  the  musical  voice  of  Mabel  Mercer, 
singing  to  herself,  and  caught  a  glimpse  of 
her  airy  form  as  she  moved  about  among 
the  flowers.  Unconsciously,  as  he  persuaded 
himself  to  believe,  he  went  toward  her,  and 
soon  stood  by  her  side,  when  she  greeted 
him  with  a  smile  which  made   his   heart 


throb  violently,  and   played  the  mischief 
with  his  severe  and  excellent  resolutions. 

"  Good  morning,  Mr.  Brant — Errington, 
I  mean." 

"  Good  morning,  Miss  Mercer,  and  please 
don't  let  your  tongue  trip  so  any  more,  as  it 
might  possibly  prove  a  death  warrant  for 
me,  though  it  would  sound  sweetly,  and 
could  be  met  cheerfully,  if  it  came  from 
your  fair  lips." 

"  Oh,  you  are  complimentary.  Is  that 
the  way  with  you  gentlemen  of  the  North  ? 
"Well,  I  don't  like  compliments,  and  am  sure 
that  nothing  could  induce  me  to  speak  your 
death  warrant — or  the  death  warrant  of 
any  other  good  Union  man,"  she  continued, 
half  blushing.  "If  you  could  say,  Mr. 
Errington,  that  I  am  a  true  Union  girl, 
who  would  be  willing  to  suffer  and  die  for 
my  countiy,  it  would  be  a  compliment  that 
I  would  be  glad  to  hear." 

"  Indeed,  Miss  Mercer,  I  believe  that  I 
can  say  it,  and  I  thank  God  that  it  is  so. 
I  only  wish  there  were  more  like  you — 
though  there  could  be  none  like  you,"  he 
said,  musingly. 

"  No,  there  are  few,  if  any,  Union  ladies 
around  here,"  said  Mabel,  refusing  to  un- 
derstand the  compliment.  "  Don't  you 
think,  to  change  the  conversation,  that  you 
are  now  engaged  in  a  very  perilous  busi- 
ness ?" 

"  Perilous  it  may  be,  and  I  expect  it  will 
be ;  but  long  ago  I  solemnly  devoted  my 
life  to  it,  and  I  can  afford  to  die  better  than 
many  who  must  leave  behind  them  pleasant 
homes  and  sweet  family  ties." 

"  Have  you  no  one,  then,  to  mourn  for 
you,  if  you  should  fall  in  battle,  or  meet  a 
more  ignominious  death?"  said  Mabel, 
shuddering. 

"  None,  Miss  Mercer,  except  my  old 
father,  who  does  not  expect  to  see  me  re- 
turn." 

"  Is  there  no  fair  lady  who  would  grieve 
when  you  are  gone  ?" 

"  None." 

"  Would  it  not  make  your  heart  better 
for  your  work,  and  please  and  comfort  you, 
to  know  that  some  one,  however  insignifi- 
cant, cared  for  you,  and  would  mourn  your 
loss,  if  you  were  to  die  ?" 

"  Indeed  it  would,"  said  Bob  Brant,  lift- 
ing up  bis  flushed  and  then  handsome  face 
to  tbe  dark  eyes  that  seemed  to  look  into 
his  soul. 

"  Then  I  assure  you  that  I  would  grieve 
for  you — oh,  so  much !  for  you  are  a  true 


BUSINESS    AFFAIRS    OF    BRANT. 


13 


Union  man,  and  a  brave  one,"  she  said, 
blushing  deeply,  "  and  such  deserve  my  best 
prayers  and  sympathies.  If  this  can  ever 
comfort  you,  and  keep  you  from  risking 
your  life  unnecessarily,  I  shall  be  very  thank- 
ful," and  Mabel  Mercer  gave  him  her  hand, 
smiling,  blushing,  and  half  weeping. 

It  was  too  much.  As  Bob  Brant  felt  the 
warm  and  tender  pressure  of  that  small 
hand,  his  very  fine  resolutions  melted,  and 
the  capture  of  the  scout  was  completed. 
He  had  found  something  besides  his  country 
to  love,  and  felt,  but  did  not  deplore,  the 
"  divided  duty." 

The  breakfast  bell  soon  rung,  and  Bob 
and  Mabel  Mercer  went  to  the  house.  It 
may  be  said,  in  justice  to  our  hero,  whose 
performances  and  vascillations  of  late  may 
cause  him  to  be  considered  by  some  as  not 
a  "first-chop"  hero,  that  he  had  enough 
good  sense  left  to  eat  a  substantial  break- 
fast, and  well  he  might,  it  being  a  good 
one. 

After  breakfast  he  started  out  to  attend 
to  "business."  He  declined  the  company 
of  Charley  Mercer,  who  was  anxious  to  go 
with  him,  fearing  that  he  might  bring  the 
young  man  into  difficulty. 

"I  had  better  see  for  myself  how  the 
land  lays,"  said  he.  "  If  I  should  possibly 
come  to  grief,  I  would  not  wish  it  to  be 
known  that  I  had  any  thing  to  do  with  this 
house  or  its  inmates.  If  I  should  not  suc- 
ceed perfectly,  you  must  not  look  for  me 
here  again.  And  so  good-by,  as  we  may 
not  meet  again." 

Bob's  whole  heart  was  in  his  eyes  when 
he  looked  at  Mabel,  and  pressed  her  hand 
at  parting,  for  he  felt  that  it  might  be  an 
eternal  good-by. 

But  down  the  road  he  walked,  gayly  and 
almost  joyfully.  H  he  had  been  a  musical 
hero,  our  hero  would  have  sung  or  whistled 
as  he  walked,  but  as  he  was  a  very  matter- 
of-fact  sort  of  an  individual,  and  had  no 
ear  for  music,  he  did  nothing  of  the  kind. 
Before,  it  had  been  a  determined  and  patri- 
otic, but  solemn  and  severe  spirit  that  actu- 
ated Sim;  but  now  he  felt  cheerful  and 
lightsome,  and  better  able  to  do  and  to  dare, 
as  well  as  to  suffer.  If  it  wa9  Mabel  Mer- 
cer who  had  wrought  this  change  in  Bob 
Brant,  blessings  on  her  sweet  face  ! 

Bob  found  his  "business"  better,  and 
more  easy  of  accomplishment,  than  he  had 
expected.  Delivering  a  letter  to  a  promi- 
nent secessionist,  who  proved  to  be  a  "  sure- 
enough"    one   this   time,   he  was  warmly 


welcomed,  and  introduced  to  several  army 
contractors  and  officers,  including  General 
Cheatham  himself.  He  had  reason  to  thank 
the  timely  foresight  of  Carson,  who  had 
arrested  him  at  Cairo,  and  thus  given  him  a 
ready  passport  to  Secessia,  for  the  story  of 
his  arrest  had  preceded  him — such  was,  at 
that  time,  the  facility  of  communication  be- 
tween Cairo  and  the  Confederate  camps — 
and  he  found  himself  quite  a  lion. 

He  was  astonished  at  the  discipline  and 
organization  of  the  troops  he  saw  at  Jack- 
son ;  it  was  so  different  from  what  was  re- 
ported and  generally  believed  at  Cairo. 
The  men,  also,  were  substantially,  though 
roughly  clothed,  and  seemed  to  be  well  fed. 
Bob  wished  that  the  same  spirit  of  energy 
and  activity  that  characterized  the  Confeder- 
ate officers  might  be  manifested  by  those  on 
our  side.  It  seemed  to  him  that  they  ap- 
peared to  feel  that  they  had  a  powerful 
enemy  to  encounter,  while  the  Union  men 
were  too  confident,  and  too  ready  to  under- 
rate their  adversary. 

Bob  made  contracts  with  several  parties 
for  such  a  quantity  of  "  navy-sized  revolvers" 
as  he  thought  would  be  reasonable,  deliver- 
able at  any  point  within  the  Confederate 
lines  at  which  he  could  most  conveniently 
run  the  blockade;  also  for  gold  lace  and 
such  other  small  articles  as  he  could  smuggle 
through.  To  carry  out  his  idea  of  "  busi- 
ness," he  was  careful  to  chaffer  about  the 
price,  enlarging  upon  the  increasing  difficulty 
of  getting  his  goods  across  the  river,  and 
endeavoring  to  get  as  much  of  the  price  as 
possible  payable  in  gold.  In  short,  he  was 
entirely  successful,  being  welcomed  as  a 
"  friend  in  need,"  and  made  such  good  use 
of  his  eyes  and  ears,  that  before  evening  he 
had  secured  considerable  information  that 
would  be  very  valuable  in  Cairo. 

After  sauntering  about  as  much  as  he 
chose,  he  slipped  away  from  his  new  friends 
before  any  of  them  had  time  to  ask  him 
home  to  supper,  and  took  the  road  to  Ma- 
jor Mercer's. 


CHAPTER    Vir 

Threatening  Appearances. 

As  Bob  Brant  sauntered  along  the  road, 
he  felt  the  perplexities  of  his  situation,  and, 
in  plain  language,  was  considerably  bothered. 

He  knew  that  the  information  he  had 
gained  should  be  conveyed  to  Cairo,  and 


14 


BOB  BRANT,  PATRIOT  AND  SPY. 


that,  too,  with  the  greatest  possible  dispatch, 
and  he  knew  of  no  way  of  getting  it  there 
but  to  carry  it.  He  felt  that  a  sudden  dis- 
appearance from  Jackson  would  cause  him 
to  be  looked  upon  with  suspicion  by  the 
Confederate  authorities,  and  he  feared  that 
the  suspicion  might  also  attach  to  Major 
Mercer  and  his  family.  Can  it  be  possible 
that  Mabel  Mercer  had  any  thing  to  do  with 
his  perplexity,  and  that  his  desire  of  re- 
maining near  her  for  a  short  time  caused 
him  to  hesitate  ?  It  hardly  seems  possible 
that  any  tiling  could  cause  a  young  man, 
who  had  formed  such  excellent  resolutions, 
to  deviate  from  his  duty. 

Nevertheless,  Bob  Brant  was  perplexed, 
and  walked  along  in  a  kind  of  brown  study, 
noticing  nothing  by  the  way,  until  he  sud- 
denly found  himself  surrounded  by  a  rough 
crowd,  who  all  seemed  to  have  been  drink- 
ing very  freely,  for  they  came  on  whooping 
and  shouting,  and  were  certainly  intoxicated 
with  excitement  or  poor  whisky. 

The  spokesman  of  this  interesting  assem- 
blage was  a  tall,  raw-boned,  gaunt  individual, 
dressed  in  a  rough  suit  of  brown  homespun, 
who  flourished  a  heavy  overseer's  whip,  and 
appeared  as  much  overcome  by  intoxication 
or  excitement  as  any  of  the  rest.  He  had 
a  merry  twinkle  in  his  eye,  however,  and 
his  general  appearance  was  indicative  of 
mischief  rather  than  malevolence. 

This  worthy  staggered  up  to  our  hero, 
and  shouted,  as  he  brandished  his  whip  in 
the  air : 

"Here,  boys;  shouldn't  wonder  if  we 
have  caught  one  of  them  durned  Yanks  at 
last.     Let's  look  into  the  crittur." 

Then  sidling  up  to  Bob  Brant,  who  kept 
his  right  hand  in  the  pocket  where  his 
pistol  was  concealed,  with  a  maudlin  air, 
said: 

"  Hello,  stranger  ;  p'raps  ye  can  jest  tell 
us  whar  ye  come  from.  Seems  kind  o' 
strange  for  a  man  of  your  stamp  to  be  found 
around  here,  'specially  with  all  them  good 
clothes  on,  and  nary  Confederate  uniform. 
P'raps  ye'd  jest  let  me  know,  for  the  satis- 
faction of  myself  an'  this  yere  party  of 
royal — loyal,  I  mean,  boys — hie — citizens, 
who  ye  are,  and  whar  ye  come  from,  and 
all  about  ye.  That's  it,  boys,  and  that'll 
bring  this  feller  down  to  the  pint  of  a  toad- 
sticker." 

"  That's  the  idea,  ole  fel,"  said  one  of  the 
party,  who  was  steadying  himself  up  against 
a  tree  ;  "  bring  him  down  to  tell  which  he 
came   from,   and    whence    he's   agoin'    to. 


That's  the  question.  Young  feller,  answer 
that  ere  speech." 

Bob  kept  his  presence  of  mind,  and  kept 
his  hand  on  his  pistol,  both,  as  he  thought, 
very  needful  things  to  be  kept.  And  he 
answered  them  coolly  and  well : 

"  If  you  want  to  know  where  I  came 
from,  gentlemen,  I  must  say  that  I  came 
from  the  North,  from  the  State  of  Indiana. 
I  am  here  to  aid  the  Confederate  Govern- 
ment by  supplying  them  with  arms  and  ac- 
couterments.  I  have  some  of  the  arms 
with  me,  and  this  is  one  of  them,"  said  he, 
drawing  his  pistol,  cocking  it,  and  present- 
ing it  at  the  crowd. 

"  There,  never  mind,"  said  the  individual 
who  was  steadying  himself  against  the  tree. 
"  I  s'pect  it's  all  right,  Cap'n,  and  I  don't 
reckon  he'd  steal  any  niggers." 

"  No,  it  ain't,  by  a  durned  sight,"  said  the 
long  personage  with  the  overseer's  whip. 
"  I've  seen  too  much  of  these  Indianny  and 
Ellinoy  Yankees,  who  come  down  here  to 
swindle  us,  and  go  back  and  tell  all  they 
know.  Say,  stranger,  tell  us  whar  yer  goin' 
to  now.  Ye  needn't  handle  yer  six-shooter, 
for  we're  too  many  for  yer.  So  tell  us  plain 
and  squar,  if  you've  got  any  plainness  and 
squamess  about  yer." 

"  I  have  only  one  thing  more  to  say  to 
you,"  said  Bob,  as  he  returned  his  pistol  to 
his  pocket,  but  left  it  cocked,  and  still 
clutched  it  firmly ;  "  if  you  want  to  know 
any  thing  more  about  me,  just  go  to  head- 
quarters, and  ask  General  Cheatham  about 
Mr.  Errington.  I  have  periled  my  life  for 
your  Confederacy,  and  don't  mean  to  be  in- 
sulted by  any  understrappers." 

It  was  evident  that  the  cool  and  deliber- 
ate Bob  Brant  was  getting  excited. 

"  It's  all  right,  Cap'n,  I  guess,"  said  the 
man  who  was  steadying  himself  against  the 
tree,  and  who  had  been  gradually  edging 
himself  out  of  the  possible  range  of  Bob's 
pistol. 

"  No,  it  ain't  all  right,  by  a  durned  sight, 
as  I  told  ye  before,"  said  the  long  and 
ugly  one,  who  had  stayed  close  to  Bob  dur- 
ing the  parley.  "  I  ain't  satisfied  with  every- 
body's say-so,  and  I've  good  reason  not  to 
be,  and  I'm  going  to  arrest  this  yere  young 
feller,  in  the  name  of  the  Southern  Confed- 
eracy." 

Bob's  hand  again  clutched  his  pistol,  and 
his  interrogator  saw  the  movement. 

"  Ye  needn't  handle  yer  pistol,  young 
man,  for  I'm  able  to  take  yer  by  myself 
alone,  and  can  shoot  a  durned  sight  quicker 


"OLD  BILL  WOODWORTH." 


15 


than  you  ever  dar'd  to.  Here,  you  fellers, 
go  up  the  street,  and  turn  off  on  that  lane 
to  your  right,  and  see  if  you  can  pick  up 
any  more  stragglers.  And  the  first  whisky- 
shop  you  come  to,  take  a  drink  at  my  ex- 
pense, and  tell  'em  Captain  Higley  will  see 
it  settled  for.  I'm  goin'  to  take  this  yere 
young  chap  to  the  Captain's  quarters,  and 
ye  can  bet  yer  bayonets  that  the  old  man 
will  fix  him." 

"  All  right,  Cap'n,"  said  the  self-constitu- 
ted synod,  as  they  took  their  devious  way 
along  the  road. 

"  Come  along,  young  feller,"  said  Bob's 
captor,  as  he  staggered  up  alongside  of  his 
prisoner. 

Bob  concluded  to  go.  He  thought  he 
saw  plain  sailing  before  him,  and  it  seemed 
an  easy  matter  to  get  rid  of  the  inconveni- 
ent presence  of  this  inebriated  individual  at 
any  moment. 

So  they  went  along  together,  the  tall  man 
walking  on  the  right  of  our  hero,  who  step- 
ped freely  but  warily,  his  hand  still  grasp- 
ing his  pistol.  In  a  few  minutes  they  came 
to  a  tavern  in  the  road,  where  thick  woods 
spread  upon  either  side,  and  here  Bob's  con- 
ductor cast  a  quick  and  furtive  look  behind, 
and  then  suddenly  staightening  himself  up, 
stopped  in  his  tracks,  and  looked  at  Bob. 

Bob  Brant  stopped  also,  and  again  clutch- 
ed his  pistol  as  he  looked  the  supposed  Con- 
federate full  in  the  face. 

"  Mr.  Brant,"  said  the  long  man,  from 
whom  every  trace  of  intoxication  had  dis- 
appeared in  an  instant;  "'spect  likely  ye 
don't  know  me." 

"  No,"  said  Bob,  "  I  don't." 

"But  I  know  you,  and  ye'll  know  me, 
when  ye  hear  my  name.  "Wouldn't  those 
chaps  hev  give  a  pretty  sum  to  know  it, 
though  !  But  it  takes  old  Bill  Woodworth 
to  fool  'em  1" 

"  What !"  said  Bob  Brant, "  do  you  mean 
to  say  that  you  are  old  Bill  "Woodworth  ? 
Here,  where  a  price  is  set  on  your  head ! 
How  can  you  dare — " 

"  Never  mind,  young  man,  what  I  dare. 
So  ye  thort  I  a  was  a  Confed,  and  drunk  at 
that  1  "Well,  I  meant  ye  should,  but  if  any 
man  has  got  good  cause  to  hate  the  Con- 
federates an'  whisky,  too,  it  is  me.  Between 
them,  they've  ruined  my  house  and  home, 
an'  murdered  my  wife  and  child.  I'll  re- 
member Missouri  for  'em,  and  get  revenge 
enough  before  I  die.  Do  you  know  I  went 
on  tick  for  them  fellows  whisky  ?  P'raps 
Captain  Higley  or  somebody  else  '11  come 


along  and  pay  for  it.  Cuss  'em  !  I  only 
want  a  clear  field  and  a  good  rifle  to  show 
'em  wbat  I  think  of  'em.  But  I  hevn't  no 
time  to  talk,  or  to  cry,  neither,  though  God 
knows  I  would  like  to.  Carson  sent  me  to 
meet  you,  and  the  Gineral  said  you'd  hev 
some  drawin's  or  writin's  to  send  up.  H 
you  have,  give  'em  to  me  quick." 

Bob  had  been  astonished  for  a  moment, 
at  the  audacity  of  this  man,  who  was  known 
and  "spotted"  by  the  Confederate  authori- 
ties in  all  that  section  of  country ;  but  re- 
covering his  presence  of  mind,  he  drew  from 
his  pocket  a  few  condensed  notes  and  me- 
moranda, and  a  small  plan  of  the  fortifica- 
tions at  Columbus,  and  handed  them  to  hi« 
strange  companion,  who  immediately  thrust 
them  in  the  breast-pocket  of  his  butternut 
coat.  The  plan  was  complete,  and  the  me- 
moranda were  of  the  utmost  importance. 

"  Good-by,"  said  "Woodworth,  hurriedly, 
wringing  the  hand  of  our  hero.  "  The  old 
man  wants  you  to  be  in  Fort  Donelson 
within  four  days,  ef  you  dar  to  do  it." 

"  Dare  !"  said  Bob,  flushing  up,  "  I  will 
be  there  witfcin  the  time,  if  I  die  for  it." 

"  Yes,  yes,  that's  what  he  said  he  knowed 
of  yer.  Git  in  as  well  as  you  ken  ;  I  can't 
tell  you  nothin'  about  it ;  but  I'm  'feard  the 
biggest  trouble  will  be  to  git  out.  Let  me 
tell  you  one  thing — jest  you  take  the  Mays- 
ville  road  when  you  go.  Good  God !  I'm 
off.  Say  you  don't  know  me,  young  man," 
and  in  an  instant,  the  long,  gaunt,  and  ugly 
individual  disappeared  in  the  woods. 

Bob  Brant  was  somewhat  surprised;  as 
may  reasonably  be  supposed,  but  his  sur- 
prise was  at  an  end  when  half  a  dozen  Con- 
federate cavalrymen,  headed  by  a  Lieuten- 
ant, rode  up  and  halted  where  he  stood. 

"  Halt !"  said  the  officer.  "  Two  of  you 
guard  this  man,  while  the  rest  chase  that 
fellow  up.     Catch  him  or  kill  him  1" 

The  four  disappeared  in  the  wood,  and 
two  dismounted  and  took  hold  of  our  hero, 
to  whom  the  almost  breathless  Lieutenant 
thus  addressed  himself: 

"  Well,  sir,  you  are  caught,  are  you  ?  A 
pretty  piece  of  business  this  is,  and  you  shall 
swing  for  it,  as  sure  as  I  hate  a  sneaking 
Northern  spy.  You  have  done  for  yourself 
this  time,  young  man." 

"  I  have  done  nothing  wrong  that  I  know 
of,"  said  Bob,  quite  coolly,  "  and  will  be 
much  obliged  to  you  if  you  will  tell  me 
what  this  all  means." 

"  "What  it  means  !  Well,  young  man, 
your   impudence   beats   the   devil.      Why, 


16 


BOB   BRANT,   PATRIOT   AND   SPY. 


haven't  we  proved  you  a  spy,  by  catching 
you  in  company  with  that  sneaking  scoun- 
drel, Bill  Woodworth  ?" 

"  Bill  Woodworth  !"  said  Bob,  showing  a 
fair  degree  of  surprise,  I  don't  know  any 
such  man.  If  you  mean  him  who  has  just 
left  us,  I  was  taken  prisoner  by  him  a  short 
time  since,  in  company  with  a  crowd  of 
others,  and  he  said  he  intended  to  take  me 
to  Captain  Higley's  headquarters." 

"  I  don't  believe  your  story,  young  man," 
said  the  officer,  "  but  if  it  is  true,  that  Bill 
Woodworth  is  the  most  impudent,  as  well 
as  the  most  daring  scoundrel  unhung." 

The  men  who  had  followed  Woodworth, 
returned,  and  reported  that  they  could  not 
find  the  slightest  trace  of  the  spy.  The 
party  then  returned  to  the  camp  at  a  walk, 
two  of  them  guarding  our  hero. 


CHAPTER    IX. 

Brant  Imprisoned  and  Paroled. 

I 

Arrived  at  the  camp,  Bob  Brant  was 
promptly  conveyed  by  his  captors  to  the 
office  of  the  Provost-Marshal,  an  official 
upon  whose  tender  mercies  he  put  but  little 
reliance.  The  officer-  gave  his  account  of 
the  affair,  relating  the  suspicious  circum- 
stances in  which  he  had  found  our  hero. 
Bob  was  graciously  permitted  to  give  his 
version,  and  promptly  stated  that  his  name 
was  Henry  Errington,  that  he  had  come 
there  with  letters  from  some  of  their  friends 
in  the  North,  for  the  purpose  of  supplying 
small  arms,  percussion  caps,  and  such  ma- 
terial to  the  army ;  that  he  run  great  risk  in 
so  doing,  and  thought  it  hard  that  he  should 
be  put  to  trouble  and  inconvenience  on  ac- 
count of  a  person  whom  he  had  never  seen 
before.  He  stated  that  he  had  finished  his 
business  at  the  camp,  and  was  walking  along 
the  road,  when  he  was  met  by  a  crowd  of 
men  whom  he  supposed  to  be  patrolmen  or 
rangers,  headed  by  the  man  Woodworth,  or 
whoever  he  was,  who  had  arrested  him  on 
some  suspicion ;  that  Woodworth,  or  who- 
ever he  was,  said  that  he  was  going  to  take 
him  to  Captain  Higley's  headquarters ;  and 
had  stopped  to  search  him  for  arms,  when 
the  cavalrymen  came  in  sight,  and  the  fel- 
low darted  off  into  the  wood. 

Bob  told  his  story  with  an  air  of  candor 
that  sat  well  upon  him,  but  it  was  evident 
that  he  would  find  no  believers  tbere. 


"  This  is  a  strange  story,  young  man," 
said  the  Provost,  "  one  of  the  strangest 
stories  I  ever  heard.  In  fact,  it  is  entirely 
too  strange  to  be  true.  Even  old  Bill 
Woodworth  wouldn't  have  the  impudence 
and  the  audacity  to  perpetrate  such  a  trick : 
and  what  could  be  his  motive  in  doing  it, 
and  how  could  he  get  the  men  to  follow 
him  ?" 

"  Of  his  motive,"  answered  Brant,  "  I 
know  nothing,  unless  it  may  have  been  to 
rob  me ;  but  as  for  the  men,  it  is  evident 
that  he  had  made  them  drunk,  as  they  were 
all  pretty  full  when  I  met  them." 

"  Why  did  he  go  along  with  you  alone, 
and  what  became  of  the  other  men  ?" 

"  He  sent  the  other  men  on,  to  look  up 
more  stragglers,  as  he  said,  and  told  them 
to  stop  at  the  first  whisky  shop  and  take  a 
drink,  and  that  Captain  Higley  would  pay 
for  it." 

The  Provost  was  getting  indignant. 

"  There  is  no  such  man  as  Captain  Hig- 
ley," said  he.  "  Your  story  is  utterly  ridicu- 
lous, young  man.     Guard,  search  him." 

Brant  was  accordingly  subjected  to  a 
thorough  search,  and  glad  enough  was  he 
that  he  had  got  well  rid  of  the  plans  and 
memoranda  he  had  given  to  old  Bill  Wood- 
worth,  and  that  that  individual  had  got 
safely  off  with  them.  Nothing  was  found 
upon  him  but  his  pistol,  and  one  of  the  let- 
ters of  introduction  he  had  brought  from 
Paducah.  The  latter  evidently  disposed  the 
officer  to  look  upon  his  case  rather  more 
favorably,  and  to  think  that  there  might  be 
some  truth  in  his  representations.  Never- 
theless, he  told  our  hero  that  he  must  com- 
mit him  for  further  examination ;  though, 
as  he  appeared  to  be  a  gentleman,  and  might 
be  found'"  all  right,"  he  would  not  put  him 
in  the  common  guard-house,  but  would  lodge 
him  for  the  night  in  tbe  calaboose  or  town 
jail. 

Bob  asked  to  be  confronted  with  General 
Cheatham,  expressing  himself  as  certain  that 
that  officer  would  order  his  immediate  re- 
lease, but  he  was  informed  that  the  General 
could  not  be  seen  at  that  hour,  and  he  must 
consequently  be  content  to  remain  in  the 
prison  for  the  night.  His  pistol  was  then 
taken  from  him,  but  he  was  allowed  to  re- 
tain the  money  he  had  about  him,  and  was 
marched  off  to  the  calaboose,  under  a  guard. 

There  were  few  spectators  at  the  Provost- 
Marshal's  office ;  but  young  Brant  had  no- 
ticed among  them  the  shining  countenance 
of  old  Pharaoh,  who  had  glanced  at  him 


AN    UNEXPECTED    CALL. 


17 


significantly.  When  he  was  taken  to  the 
jail,  he  observed  that  the  old  negro  followed 
him  at  a  short  distance,  and,  just  before  the 
door  closed  upon  him,  he  again  caught  the 
significant  glance  of  Pharaoh. 

Bob  Brant  was  ushered  into  a  small  room, 
hardly  to  be  called  a  cell,  in  which  he  was 
alone.  It  was  a  comfortable  enough  room, 
for  a  jail,  but  Bob  felt  painfully  that  it  teas 
a  jail,  a  place  which,  at  that  time,  he  most 
heartily  wished  himself  out  of.  No  thought 
of  personal  danger  entered  his  mind,  for  he 
was  sure  that  no  proof  could  be  found 
against  him,  unless  old  Bill  Woodworth 
should  be  caught,  of  which  he  had  no  fear, 
or  unless  Major  Mercer  should  inform 
against  him,  an  idea  which  he  rejected  as 
soon  as  it  presented  itself.  But  he  had  pro- 
mised, and  the  General  expected  him,  to  be 
inside  of  Fort  Donelson  within  four  days, 
and  he  felt  that  he  ought  to  have  started 
that  night,  or  in  the  morning  at  farthest,  in 
order  to  arrange  his  plans  for  getting  in  and 
out  again.  He  knew  that  it  would  hardly 
be  possible  for  him  to  get  a  hearing  before 
noon  the  next  day,  and  even  then  he  would 
not  be  likely  to  get  clear  without  further 
detention,  so  that  he  saw  little  chance  of 
being  in  the  promised  place  at  the  promised 
time. 

The  calaboose,  as  Bob  had  previously 
noticed  from  the  outside,  was  a  strong  build- 
ing, substantially  built  of  heavy  hewn  tim- 
bers, and  on  the  inside  he  found  it  stoutly 
double  planked,  the  planks  being  spiked  to 
the  timbers.  He  soon  saw  the  hopelessness 
of  any  attempt  at  escape,  and  settled  down 
into  a  fit  of  the  blues.  Thoughts  of  Mabel 
Mercer  mixed  themselves  up  gloomily  with 
the  unpleasant  web  of  his  perplexities,  and 
he  became  so  restless  and  uneasy  that  he 
was  unable  to  sleep,  but  walked  the  floor 
with  moody  brow  and  downcast  eye. 

It  was  hardly  an  hour  after  our  hero  had 
been  lodged  in  the  jail,  that  a  young  gentle- 
man in  the  uniform  of  a  Confederate  Cap- 
tain, evidently  inebriated,  came  walking 
unsteadily  along  the  street,  and  "brought 
up  "  in  front  of  the  sentry  who  stood  at  the 
jail  door.  The  sentry  gave  the  usual  salute 
to  the  officer,  and  the  latter,  steadying  him- 
self against  the  post,  addressed  him  as  fol- 
lows: 

"  Did  they  bring  a  young  chap  in  here  a 
while  ago,  from  the  Provost's  office  ?" 

"  Tes,  sir." 

"  Let  me  in  ;  I  want  to  see  him." 

"  Can't  do  it,  Captain  ;  it's  against  orders." 
2  5 


"  I  reckon  General  Cheatham's  orders  are 
good  enough  for  you,"  said  the  officer,  taking 
a  bit  of  paper  from  his  pocket.  "  Here, 
young  man,  can  you  read  writing?  Let 
me  read  it  for  you,  though,"  and  he  read : 

"  Henry  Errington  is  paroled  until  further 
orders,  on  condition  that  he  keeps  within  the 
quarters  of  Captain  Hemingway. 

"  By  order  of  Brig.  Gen.  Cheatham. 

"  B.  A.  Cooley,  A.  A.  Gen." 

"  There,  young  man,  you  see  that  signa- 
ture, do  you  ?  I  want  to  see  if  this  young 
man  is  the  one  the  General  means,  and  if 
he  is,  he  goes  to  my  quarters  to-night." 

"  All  right,  Captain,"  said  the  obsequious 
sentry,  as  he  opened  the  door,  and  called 
to  those  within  to  admit  the  visitor  to  the 
new  prisoner. 


CHAPTER.    X. 
Charley  Mercer  and  Brant. 

YotrNG  Brant  was  surprised  when  this 
bearded  and  mustached  officer  walked  into 
his  cell,  and  he  stared  blankly  at  him.  The 
visit,  however,  was  a  relief  to  his  monotony, 
and  served  to  distract  his  attention  from  his 
own  tboughts. 

The  officer  closed  the  door  carefully. 

"  Good  evening,  Mr.  Errington,"  said  he  ; 
how  do  you  find  yourself?" 

"Pretty  well,  I  thank  you,  for  a  man 
who  is  locked  up.  Hope  you  are  in  good 
health  yourself." 

"  Yes,  I  am  well  enough ;  always  am, 
Robert." 

"  You  have  slightly  mistaken  my  name," 
said  Bob,  without  moving  a  muscle.  "  My 
name  is  Henry  Errington,  not  Robert." 

"  Reckon  it  isn't,  just  now,"  said  the 
officer,  as  he  pulled  off  his  heavy,  dark 
beard  and  moustache,  and  disclosed  the 
smooth  face  and  laughing  eyes  of  Charley 
Mercer. 

"  Why,  Mercer,  you're  welcome  as  ice  in 
the  dog-days.     How  did  you  get  in  ?" 

"  Walked  in,  of  course ;  and  now,  with- 
out any  more  talking,  you  will  please  just 
walk  out  with  me,  and  I  will  tell  you  about 
it  afterward.  Old  Pharaoh  is  waiting  near 
the  corner  of  our  lane  with  a  couple  of 
horses  and  your  traps,  and  you  can  be  far 
away  from  this  before  sun-up." 

"  All  right,"  said  Bob,  reserving  his  won- 
der; "have  you  a  scrap  of  paper  about 
you  V* 


BOB    BRANT,    PATRIOT    AND    SPY. 


Charley  Mercer  tore  off  the  blank  part  of 
a  letter,  and.  Bob  hurriedly  scrawled  the  fol- 
lowing lines  on  it  in  pencil : 

"  In  the  Calaboose,  Wednesday  night. 
"  Gen.  Cheatham  : 

"  After  risking  my  life  to  serve  the  Confed- 
eracy, I  thought  I  was  entitled  to  better  treat- 
ment. I  am  not  pleased  with  this  lodging, 
and  have  concluded  to  quit  it.  I  have  busi- 
ness which  calls  me  to  Fort  Donelson,  from 
which  place  I  will  write  to  you,  and  if  you 
wish  me  to  carry  out  the  contract  I  made 
with  you,  will  arrange  for  the  delivery  of  the 
arms,  etc. 

"  Please  give  my  respects  to  the  Provost- 
Marshal,  and  tell  him  to  be  careful  not  to  pick 
up  the  wrong  man  next  time. 

"  Yours,  very  respectfully, 

"  Heney  Errington." 

This  precious  document  the  young  man 
left  in  a  place  where  it  could  be  easily  found 
in  the  morning,  and  followed  his  guide,  who 
by  this  time  had  resumed  his  beard  and  his 
unsteady  gait. 

As  they  passed  out  of  the  door,  the  pre- 
tended Confederate  officer  said  to  the  sentry : 

"It's  all  right,  young  man.  This  is  the 
chap  I  was  looking  for.  I  tell  you  the 
General  was  hopping  mad  when  he  heard 
that  he  had  been  locked  up  in  the  jail." 

"  All  right,  Captain,"  replied  the  soldier, 
as  he  saluted. 

"  Come  along,  old  boy,"  said  Charley, 
hilariously,  as  he  took  his  companion  by 
the  arm.  "  We'll  make  a  night  of  it  at  my 
quarters,  and  I'll  get  you  so  tight  that  you 
won't  be  able  to  break  your  parole  if  you 
want  to  ;  and  if  I  get  in  the  same  fix,  guard 
duty  may  go  to  the  devil,  if  I  get  cashiered 
for  it." 

When  they  were  out  of  hearing  of  the 
thoroughly  deceived  sentry,  walking  swiftly 
along  the  street,  Bob  Brant  thought  he 
could  indulge  his  curiosity,  and  asked  his 
friend: 

"  How,  in  the  name  of  common  sense,  did 
you  get  that  parole  from  the  General  ?" 

"  Didn't  get  any  parole  from  the  General," 
said  the  laughing  boy ;  "  made  it  myself. 
And  that  reminds  me  that  I  had  better  de- 
stroy it." 

He  accordingly  tore  it  in  small  pieces, 
and  scattered  them  along  the  roadside. 

"  Made  it  yourself  I  You  are  very  rash, 
and  have  been  bringing  yourself  into  danger 
for  my  sake.  Don't  you  know  that  it  would 
be  as  much  as  your  life  is  worth,  if  you 
should  be  found  out  ?" 

"  But  how  is  any  one  ever  going  to  know 
any  thing  about  it?     Why,  you  yourself 


could  not  recognize  me  in  this  dress  and 
with  this  beard,  and  I  am  sure  that  that 
sentry,  who  never  saw  me  before,  could  not 
identify  me." 

"  How  did  you  come  by  that  Confederate 
unifoirn  ?" 

"  Old  Pharaoh  stole  it  for  me.  It  was 
one  of  the  neatest  things  you  ever  saw.  I 
tell  you,  there  is  a  heap  of  come-out  in  that 
old  nigger,  whenever  he  chooses  to  let  him- 
self out." 

"  I  should  think  so ;  and  not  a  little  in 
you,  also.  But  I  am  sorry  to  see  you  risk- 
ing your  life  for  my  sake — your  life,  that  is 
so  dear  to  your  father  and  mother,  and- — 
your  sister." 

"  Never  mind  my  sister,"  said  Charley 
Mercer,  with  a  merry  twinkle  in  his  eye. 
"  She  put  me  up  to  this  thing,  though  to  be 
sure  I  didn't  need  any  coaxing — the  joke 
was  too  good  a  one  to  be  lost.  Old  Pharaoh 
saw  you  going  to  the  Provost-Marshal's 
office.  He  knew  something  was  up,  and 
followed  and  watched  you  until  you  were 
lodged  in  the  jail,  when  he  hurried  home  to 
bring  us  the  news.  He  told  no  one  but 
sister  Mabel,  however,  and  she  told  me,  and, 
between  the  three  of  us,  we  soon  fixed  up  a 
plan  to  get  you  out  of  there.  Pharaoh  said 
he  knew  where  he  could  lay  his  hands, 
easily  enough,  on  a  Captain's  coat,  panta 
and  cap,  and  that  is  the  rig  I  am  in  now. 
Think  I  shall  keep  the  suit — may  find  it 
useful  some  time.  But  you  must  get  away 
from  here,  and  which  way  do  you  want 
to  go  ?" 

Bob  then  told  his  friend  of  his  desire  to 
reach  Fort  Donelson  as  soon  as  possible ;  of 
his  trouble,  while  in  the  jail,  because  he 
feared  he  would  be  unable  to  accomplish 
his  mission,  and  of  his  present  perplexity 
concerning  getting  in  the  fort,  and — what 
was  of  greater  importance — getting  out 
again. 

Charley  Mercer  said  nothing,  but  rumi- 
nated. As  they  walked  along  briskly,  though 
silently,  they  soon  reached  the  corner  of 
the  lane,  where,  turning  into  a  little  piece 
of  wood,  they  found  old  Pharaoh  awaiting 
them  with  two  saddled  horses.  The  old 
African's  eyes  sparkled,  and  his  face  fairly 
glistened,  as  our  hero  and  his  guide  walked 
up  to  bim,  and  he  expressed  his  satisfaction 
audibly : 

"  The  Lord  and  all  his  holy  angels  bless 
you,  Massa  Brant  1  I  knowed  Massa  Char- 
ley would  fix  the  trick  for  you.  Hi !  he's 
too  much  for  them  'Federates,  and  this  ole 


BRANT    ON    THE    ROAD. 


19 


nigger  ain't  nobody's  chicken,  neither. 
Won't  Miss  Mabel  be  glad  when  she  knows 
how  this  thing  come  out  ?  oh,  no,  guess  not. 
Now,  Massa  Charles,  you  must  hurry  up  to 
the  house  and  take  them  clothes  off,  right 
straight  'way,  and  you  mustn't  wake  nobody 
up.  Needn't  be  'feard  of  wakin'  up  Miss 
Mabel,  I  reckon,  for  I  'spect  she  hain't  slept 
nary  wink  this  blessed  night." 

Bob  Brant's  eyes  twinkled,  too,  and  he 
felt  better  all  over,  though  his,  face  became 
suddenly  hot,  and  he  was  rather  wet  about 
the  eyes. 

As  for  Charley  Mercer,  he  still  seemed 
lost  in  thought,  and  made  no  answer  to 
Pharaoh.     At    last    he    condescended    to 


"  Mr.  Brant,  here  is  your  carpet-bag ;  are 
any  of  your  clothes  marked  ? 

"  Of  course  not." 

"  All  right,  then.  If  you  have  any  letters 
or  writing  of  any  kind,  you  had  better  de- 
stroy every  thing  as  you  go  along.  Now 
jump  on  this  horse,  and  make  as  fast  time 
as  you  please.  Pharaoh  will  go  with  you 
as  far  as  Uncle  Tom's,  and  put  you  right 
on  the  way.  I  must  stay  here  to-morrow, 
to  see  if  this  matter  blows  over.  On  the 
turnpike,  near  Dover,  is  a  sort  of  a  tavern, 
at  a  cross-roads,  kept  by  a  fellow  named 
Michael  Curwin.  You  can  find  it  easily 
enough,  and  within  four  days  I  will  meet 
you  there.  That's  settled.  By  the  way, 
could  you  give  a  fellow  the  oath  of  alle- 
giance ?" 

"  I  am  sorry  to  say,  my  dear  boy,  that 
I  am  not  authorized  to  administer  the  oath." 

"  Then  I  will  administer  it  myself.  Now 
hear  me:  I  do  solemnly  swear,  before  high 
Heaven,  that  I  will  bear'  true  allegiance  to 
the  United  States  of  America,  and  will  use 
my  utmost  efforts  to  restore  the  Federal 
Union,  and  to  maintain  it  against  all  its  foes, 
whether  foreign  or  domestic,  at  whatever 
risk  or  danger  to  life  or  fortune.  So  help 
me  God !" 

"  There,  be  off  with  you,  and  remember 
Curwin's  tavern." 

"  A  moment,  Charley,"  said  Brant,  press- 
ing his  friend's  hand,  and  looking  down,  as 
he  pretended  to  adjust  his  stirrups,  "  may  I 
ask  you  to  give  my  love  to  your  sister?" 

"  Of  course  you  may,  and  I  will  be  glad 
to  do  it ;  and,  if  it  will  do  you  any  good, 
I  can  assure  you  that  she  will  be  glad  to 
receive  it.     Good-by ;  good-by,  Pharaoh." 

"  Good-by,"  said  Bob,  "  God  bless  you, 
and  keep  you  safe  1" 


The  white  and  black  man,  so  strangely 
allied,  turned  their  horses  into  the  road,  and 
were  soon  lost  to  the  sight,  as  they  disap- 
peared over  the  hill,  while  Charley  Mercer 
hurried  homeward. 


CHAPTER    XL 
Hospitalities  at  Curwin's  Tavern. 

Cubwtn's  tavern,  on  the  Dover  road,  was 
never  an  inviting  place,  and,  at  the  time  of 
which  wc  write,  was  less  so  than  ever.  The 
proprietor  had,  to  be  sure,  done  a  very  good 
business  of  late — more  than  could  be  ex- 
pected of  so  small  and  uncomfortable  a 
hostelrie — but  on  several  occasions  he  had 
had  a  portion  of  his  stock  confiscated  for 
selling  whisky  to  the  Confederate  soldiers, 
and  his  reverses  of  fortune  had  not  had  the 
effect  of  sweetening  his  temper,  which  was 
never  one  of  the  most  cheerful. 

The  house  was  a  two-story  affair,  but  was 
a  miserable  old  rattle-trap,  one  of  the  "  bal- 
loon" style,  through  the  many  cracks  and 
crevices  of  which  the  wind  whistled  and 
howled  as  it  pleased.  A  substantial  log 
cabin  was  attached  to  the  premises,  which 
was  used  as  a  barn ;  but  there  was  only  a 
small  portion  of  the  roof  remaining.  In 
fact,  the  whole  establishment,  and  the  whole 
household,  from  old  Curwin  himself,  down 
to  a  bare-legged  and  hatless  little  negro  boy, 
looked  dilapidated  and  "  shiftless,"  to  use  the 
expressive  Yankee  word. 

But,  comfortless  as  it  looked,  the  place 
appeared  pleasant  to  Bob  Brant,  as  he  rode 
up  to  the  door,  on  the  evening  of  a  chilly, 
misty,  drizzling  day.  He  was  wet  through, 
and  it  seemed  as  if  the  cold  north-east  wind 
had  found  its  way  into  the  marrow  of  every 
bone.  The  enticing  placards  which  adorned 
the  window,  announcing  the  various  kinds 
of  liquors  to  be  found  within,  were  a  grate- 
ful sight,  and  a  glimpse,  through  the  open 
kitchen  door,  of  the  preparations  for  supper, 
was  still  more  agreeable.  His  horse,  also, 
seemed  glad  at  the  prospect  of  rest  and 
food,  and  testified  his  approbation-  by  a 
shrill,  exultant  neigh,  which  soon  brought 
old  Curwin  himself  to  the  door.  Calling  a 
young  negro  to  take  care  of  our  hero's  horse, 
he  invited  him  to  alight  and  enter.  Bob 
was  not  slow  to  accept  the  invitation,  and 
followed  his  gruff-looking  landlord  into  the 
house,,  carrying  his  carpet-bag  with   him. 


BOB    BRANT,    PATRIOT    AND    SPY. 


He  had  first  taken  care,  however,  to  secure 
about  his  person  a  brace  of  pistols,  which 
old  Pharaoh  had  thoughtfully  put  in  his 
holsters. 

"  A  bad  night,  stranger,"  said  old  Curwin, 
as  he  closed  the  door  after  his  guest. 

"  Yes,"  said  Bob,  as  he  laid  down  his  little 
baggage,  "  a  bad  night,  and  I  am  glad  I  am 
out  of  it." 

"  Nice  horse  that  of  your'n.  Should  say 
he's  a  good  beast." 

"  Yes,  a  good  horse  to  go,  and  to  stand 
up  to  his  work.  "Wish  you'd  make  your 
boy  rub  him  down  well." 

"  Oh,  he's  up  to  that,  the  boy  is.  That 
nigger  likes  a  good  hoss  better'n  he  does 
his  vittles,  which  is  sayin'  a  heap  for  a 
nigger.  'Spect  ye've  rode  purty  fur  to-day, 
stranger  ?" 

"  Not  so  very  far ;  but  I  lost  the  road." 

"  And  whar  mout  ye  be  goin'  to  ?" 

"  I  am  going  here  just  now,"  said  Brant, 
who  was  not  at  all  pleased  at  the  landlord's 
inquisitiveness,  and  who  saw  the  necessity 
of  changing  the  conversation  or  quieting 
his  interrogator.  "  Landlord,  can  you  make 
me  something  hot  to  warm  me  up,  as  I  am 
too  nearly  frozen  to  talk." 

"  Give  ye  some  hot  whisky,  with  sugar 
into  it,"  said  Curwin,  as  he  bustled  about  to 
prepare  the  fluids.  "  That's  purty  much  all 
we've  got  now." 

"  Perhaps,"  said  Bob,  anxious  to  get  in 
the  good  graces  of  his  host,  as  he  looked 
around  and  saw  three  or  four  men  sitting  in 
the  partial  light  by  the  fire,  "perhaps  these 
gentlemen  will  take  something." 

As  usual  in  that  latitude,  the  "  gentlemen  " 
he  referred  to  "  didn't  care  if  they  did,"  and 
they  stepped  up  with  an  alacrity  which 
might  induce  the  belief  that  they  were  glad 
to  be  invited,  while  old  Curwin's  face 
looked  almost  pleasant  at  the  prospect  of 
custom. 

"While  the  landlord  was  mixing  the  spirits 
to  suit  the  varied  tastes  of  "the  crowd," 
young  Brant  looked  around  to  see  into  what 
kind  of  company  he  had  fallen. 

"  At  the  first  glance,  his  eyes,  though 
at  first  he  could  not  believe  them,  fell  upon 
the  never-to-be-forgotten  face  of  old  Bill 
"Woodworth,  who  was  leaning  stiffly  against 
the  counter,  stirring  his  toddy  with  a  spoon. 
Bob  started  involuntarily,  and  the  landlord 
noticed  it. 

"  "What's  the  matter  now,  stranger  V  said 
he,  eyeing  the  young  man  suspiciously. 
"Any  thin'  scart  ye  V 


Brant's  presence  of  mind  returned  at  the 
instant. 

"By  jove,"  he  replied,  "'that  picture  on 
the  wall  looks  like  a  girl  I  once  knew." 

He  then  walked  up  to  the  picture  he  men- 
tioned, a  cheap  lithograph,  and  gazed  in- 
tently at  it  for  a  few  minutes,  while  he  col- 
lected his  thoughts  and  recovered  front  his 
astonishment. 

"While  the  "gentlemen"  were  imbibing, 
Bob  observe,d  that  Woodworth  took  no 
notice  of  him,  and  of  course  concluded  that 
it  was  expected  that  neither  should  recog- 
nize the  other.  As  he  took  a  seat  by  the 
fire,  and  called  for  cigars  for  "  the  crowd," 
he  had  an  opportunity  of  inspecting  his 
late  acquaintance  more  closely.  Old  Bill 
was  transformed  greatly  as  to  dress,  though 
it  seemed  that  his  shape  and  countenance 
could  not  be  altered.  He  was  attired  in 
clothes  that  would  be  called  fine  in  that  re- 
gion, though  by  no  means  fashionably  cut, 
held  a  heavy  whip  in  his  hand,  the  lash  of 
which  he  kept  passing  through  his  fingers, 
and  looked  what  Bob  thought  to  be  the  very- 
picture  of  a  substantial  Kentucky  or  Tennes- 
see farmer. 

It  was  old  Bill  "Woodworth,  without 
doubt.  There  was  no  mistaking  the  flash 
of  that  keen  eye,  or  the  determination  ex- 
pressed by  those  thin  lips.  But  how  came 
he  there  ?  How  had  he  made  his  way  to 
Cairo,  and  got  back  into  that  country  so 
quickly  ?  Above  all,  how  did  he  dare  to  be 
there  at  all  ?  These  were  question  which 
puzzled  the  young  man  not  a  little,  but,  as 
he  did  not  think  it  worth  while  to  perplex 
himself  about  what  he  could  not  compre- 
hend, he  became  content  in  the  belief  that 
the  old  scout  knew  what  he  was  about,  and 
thac  he  would  always  be  found  in  the  right 
place  at  the  right  time. 

The  men  around  the  fire  had  been  talk- 
ing quite  freely  when  Brant  came  in,  but 
after  his  entrance  they  had  been  nearly 
silent,  only  exchanging  a  few  words  about 
the  weather  or  the  prospect  of  supper. 

The  landlord  edged  his  chair  up  to  the 
fire,  which  he  stirred.  He  seemed  uneasy 
about  something,  and  at  last  he  said,  looking 
at  our  hero. 

"  A  bad  night  agin,  stranger.  Wot  makes 
you  all  so  dull  ?" 

"  It  is  dull,"  said  Bob,  aroused  from  his 
revery.  "Landlord,  give  us  some  more 
drinks  all  around." 

This,  by  way  of  parenthesis,  was  a  course 
of  conduct  that  we  would  not  recommend 


CURWIN   GETTING   CHIVALROUS. 


21 


to  a  judicious  young  man  in  Brant'3  peculiar 
position.  He  was  rather  too  clever  for  the 
occasion,  and,  although  his  patronage  tended 
to  appease  old  Curwin,  yet  the  suspicions  of 
that  faithful  servant  of  King  Jefferson  were 
awakened  by  the  circumstance.  However, 
he  bestirred  himself  to  procure  the  fluids, 
and  the  faces  of  the  rest  of  the  party,  ex- 
cept that  of  Woodworth,  sensibly  brightened. 

When  the  landlord  had  brought  the 
glasses,  he  again  seated  himself,  and  turned 
his  gray  eyes  upon  Brant,  his  hands  resting 
upon  his  knees,  and  his  countenance  expres- 
sive of  suspicion. 

"  Stranger,"  said  he,  "  I  don't  like  to  be 
too  curious  about  a  gen'leman  as  spends  his 
money  free  like  you,  but  these  is  ticklish 
times,  and  my  house  is  watched  purty  close, 
and  I  think  it's  my  duty  to  know  who  the 
men  are  as  comes  here,  and  whar  they 
come  from,  and  whar  they're  goin'  to. 
Now,  that's  jest  wot  I  want  to  know  about 
you." 

"  It  seems  to  me,  landlord,"  replied  Bob, 
"  that  you  are  running  your  ideas  of  duty 
into  the  ground.  For  my  part,  I  am  not  in 
the  habit  of  satisfying  idle  curiosity.  I  am 
traveling  on  my  own  business,  and  what 
that  business  is,  is  nobody's  business  but  my 
own.  If  I  am  asked  by  any  authorized 
officer,  I  will  tell  it,  but  do  not  intend  to 
make  it  known  to  every  one-horse  tavern 
keeper  I  meet." 

"  You  talk  brash  enough,  young  man,  but 
your  talk  won't  go  down  with  old  Mike  Cur- 
win. I  want  to  know,  now,  whether  you're 
for  the  Confederacy  or  not." 

"  You  may  bet  on  that." 

"Then  you  can't  object  to  tellin'  me 
which  way  you're  a-goin'." 

"  Going  my  way." 

"Now,  landlord,"  spoke  up  one  of  the 
men,  "  I  don't  see  the  use  of  botherin'  the 
young  feller,  when  he  says  he's  for  the  Con- 
federacy, and  spends  his  money  like  a  white 
man." 

Curwin  glanced  angrily  at  him. 

"You'd  better  dry  up,  John  Gasher; 
you're  nothin'  but  a  no'count  Kentucky 
skunk,  nohow,  and  ye  mout  get  your  ownself 
into  a  scrape." 

The  man  made  no  further  objection,  but 
Bob  saw  that  he  would  have  a  chance  in  a 
"  scrimmage,"  and  spoke  sharply  to  the 
landlord. 

"  No  more  talk  is  necessary.  I  do  not 
consider  myself  bound  to  satisfy  your  curi- 
osity, and  do  not  intend  to  do  it." 


Curwin  sprung  from  his  seat,  and  made  a 
rush  at  our  hero,  but  was  met  by  the  muzzle 
of  one  of  Colt's  6ix-inch  barrels,  pointed  at 
his  breast.  Bob  glanced  at  "Woodworth, 
who  was  still  amusing  himself  with  drawing 
the  lash  of  his  whip  through  his  fingers. 

Curwin  stepped  back  for  his  gun.  As  he 
took  it  from  the  rack,  Brant  raised  his  left 
arm,  levelled  his  pistol  over  the  elbow,  and 
sighted  along  the  barrel. 

"  If  you  raise  that  gun,"  he  said,  calmly, 
"  I  will  bore  a  hole  through  you.  Please 
move  your  arm  a  little,  so  that  I  may  have 
a  fair  sight  at  that  third  button." 

Curwin  was  brave,  or  desperate,  enough, 
but  the  appearance  of  the  "situation"  did 
not  please  him.  He  appealed  to  the  "  crowd." 

"Men,  do  you  stand  this?  Is  a  loyal 
citizen,  who  is  only  a-doin'  of  his  duty,  to 
be  run  over  by  a  young  chap  as  is  perobably 
a  nigger-stealin'  spy?" 

Woodworth,  at  whom  Curwin  looked, 
was  still  fingering  the  lash  of  his  whip. 

"  Wa-a-1,  landlord,"  said  he,  "  I  don't  see 
as  you've  any  call  to  question  the  stranger 
so  close  and  perticlar  like." 

Another  of  the  party  was  fingering  for  a 
knife,  and  moved  closer  to  the  fire  and  to 
our  hero.  But  Bob's  quick  eye  noticed  that 
old  Bill  Woodworth  had  changed  his  hand, 
bringing  it  nearer  to  the  heavy  butt  of  the 
whip,  and  as  he  felt  secure  from  a  flank  at- 
tack in  that  quarter,  he  maintained  a'steady 
aim  at  the  landlord. 

Affairs  were  in  this  position,  Curwin  stand- 
ing irresolute,  with  his  gun  in  his  hand, 
Brant  still  sighting  his  pistol  at  the  third 
button  on  his  coat,  the  man  with  the  knife 
edging  toward  Brant,  and  Woodworth  grasp- 
ing firmly  the  stock  of  his  whip  and  com- 
pressing his  lips,  when  the  door  suddenly 
opened. 


CHAPTER    XLL 
An  Opportune  Arrival. 

"Halloo!  what's  the  row  here?"  said 
the  new  comer,  with  a  merry  laugh,  as  he 
closed  the  door  hastily.  "  Any  chance  for 
a  free  fight  here,  landlord  ?" 

Young  Brant  immediately  recognized  the 
voice  and  the  laugh,  as  those  peculiar  to 
Charley  Mercer,  but  he  did  not  take  hia 
eye  or  his  pistol  off  of  Curwin,  until  the  lat- 
ter laid  aside  his  gun,  and  addressed  the 
seeming  officer,  as  he  touched  his  hat 


22 


BOB   BRANT,   PATRIOT   AND    SPY. 


"  Why,  Captin,  it  is  jest  a  stranger  as  is 
come  in  here,  and  he  won't  give  no  account 
of  himself,  and  that's  suspicious,  as  you  must 
allow,  as  folks  as  won't  give  no  account  of 
themselves  is  perobably  Yankee  spies  or 
something  wuss.  He  sorter  got  the  whip 
hand  of  me  jest  now ;  but  I'd  hev  brort  him 
to  his  milk  purty  quick  ef  you  hadn't  come 
in,  and  now  I'll  turn  the  cuss  over  to  you." 

"  Which  is  the  man  ?"  said  Charley, 
glancing  around. 

"  That  yere  feller  with  the  pistil." 

"  What,  Heffernan  !"  exclaimed  Charley, 
stepping  up  to  Brant  and  laying  his  hand 
upon  his  shoulder.  "  The  very  man  I  have 
been  looking  for.  Landlord,  you  have  done 
exactly  right ;  and  you  deserve  a  great  deal 
of  credit  for  your  caution  and  your  devotion 
to  the  Confederacy.  I  will  see  that  it  is 
represented  in  the  proper  quarter.  This 
man  is  a  deserter  from  my  company,  Com- 
pany B,  Fourth  Arkansas  regiment,  and  I 
am  glad  to  get  hold  of  him." 

"  There,"  said  Curwin,  triumphantly,  ap- 
pealing to  "  the  crowd,"  "  I  knowed  thar 
war  su'thin'  wrong  about  that  chap.  I'm 
never  out  of  the  way  when  my  eyes  light 
onto  a  feller." 

"  All  right,  landlord,"  replied  the  officer : 
"  but  I  think  there  is  not  really  any  harm 
in  this  man.  He  is  true  and  sound,  but  he 
wanted  a  furlough  to  go  and  see  his  girl,  up 
in  Kentucky,  and  the  Colonel  refused  it,  and 
this  scapegrace  took  French  leave  and  fur- 
loughed  himself." 

The  deserter  had  now  looked  up  and 
scrutinized  his  captor.  Mercer  was  again 
attired  in  the  uniform  of  a  Confederate 
Captain,  and  his  apparent  age  was  increased 
by  a  heavy  dark  mustache. 

Bob  was  quick  to  take  his  cue,  and  said 
to  the  officer,  rather  doggedly,  but   care- 


"  I  was  just  on  my  way  to  join  the  regi- 
ment, Captain,  and  to  receive  whatever 
punishment  might  be  inflicted  on  me.  It 
was  tyrannical  in  the  Colonel  to  refuse  me 
a  furlough,  and  I  was  bound  to  see  the  girl, 
if  I  died  for  it." 

"Well,  Heffernan,  don't  bother  your 
brains  about  it.  The  Colonel  understands 
the  matter,  and  I  am  on  the  right  side  of 
him,  and  I  think  you  will  get  off  with  a 
short  imprisonment,  and  the  loss  of  any  pay 
that  is  coming  to  you." 

"  Wa-a-1,  now,"  said  Curwin,  "  I'm  glad 
to  hear  it  ain't  no  wuss,  though  the  young 
feller  was  sassy  enough  to  me.     If  he's  true 


to  the  cause,  I  sh'd  be  sorry  to  see  such  a 
likely  chap  shot,  when  we've  a-needin'  of 
soldiers.  Come,  Captin  and  gents,  all  of 
you  take  suthin'  with  me.  P'raps  it  will 
cheer  ye  up,  young  feller." 

The  request  was  generally  acceded  to, 
and  Charley  Mercer  then  asked  the  landlord 
to  hurry  up  supper,  which  was  speedily  put 
on  the  table,  and  all  ate  it,-  such  as  it  was, 
with  a  hearty  relish.  While  at  the  table, 
Mercer  again  opened  his  conversational  bat- 
teries upon  his  deserter. 

"  Well,  Heffernan,  you  must  have  been  in 
a  hurry  to  get  back,  as  you  borrowed  a  horse 
in  Kentucky. 

"  I  intended  to  send  it  home,  Captain,  the 
first  chance  I  could  get." 

"I  suppose  you  did,  but  as  I  am  here 
now,  and  must  carry  you  into  Donelson  for 
safe  keeping  to-morrow,  I  will  have  to  re- 
turn it  for  you  myself,  unless  I  can  find 
some  one  to  take  the  job  off  my  hands." 

"  I  am  goin'  down  Kentuck  way,"  said 
Woodworth,  who  had  been  doing  full  duty 
with  his  knife  and  fork,  "  and  if  it  ain't 
much  outer  my  track,  I  will  take  the  hoss 
along  for  yer." 

"  Very  well ;  you  appear  to  be  a  respect- 
able man,  and  I  will  trust  you.  Let  me 
know  when  you  start." 

"  I  shall  start  to-night,  Capting,  and  as 
I'll  hev  a  hoss  of  my  own  under  me,  I  can 
lead  that  yere  animule  as  well  as  not." 

"  Heffernan,"  said  Charley,  "  I  understand 
you  borrowed  a  pair  of  pistols  with  the 
horse.  I  suppose  you  will  want  to  return 
them  also. 

"  Here  they  are,"  said  Bob,  as  he  handed 
up  his  weapons  to  Mercer,  who  delivered 
them  to  Woodworth,  requesting  him  to  put 
them  in  the  holsters. 

When  the  meal  was  finished,  Woodworth 
"  allowed "  that  he  was  ready  to  start,  and 
went  out.  Young  Mercer  followed  him  to 
the  door,  and  the  two-  had  a  few  words  of 
private  chat,  after  which,  Charley  reentered 
the  house,  and  seated  himself  by  the  fire. 
The  steps  of  the  two  horses  were  soon  heard 
passing  the  house. 

"  Do  you  know  that  old  chap,  Captin  ?" 
said  Curwin  to  Mercer. 

"  I  know  him  by  reputation  as  a  farmer, 
and  a  man  of  meaus.  I  don't  thiuk  he 
would  be  guilty  of  stealing  a  horse." 

"  I  'spect  not,  for  he  would  find  that  a 
risky  business  around  here.  'Pears  to  me 
I've  seen  that  man  some'eres,  but  I  can't 
rightly  place  him." 


BOB   BRANT   IN   FORT   DONELSON. 


23 


Charley  then  told  the  landlord  that  he 
should  want  a  single  room  for  himself  and 
,  his  prisoner,  which  was  obtained,  after  some 
difficulty,  rooms  being  scarce  in  the  "  hotel," 
and  the  two  retired  to  bed.  Bob  wished  to 
ask  his  friend  a  few  questions,  particularly 
about  old  Bill  Woodworth's  appearance 
there,  and  more  particularly  about  Mabel 
Mercer ;  but  Charley  did  not  seem  disposed 
to  talk,  and  our  hero  repressed  his  curiosity, 
and  soon  fell  into  a  sound  sleep. 

In  the  morning,  after  they  had  taken 
their  breakfast  and  paid  their  score,  the  two 
started  out  afoot,  on  their  way  to  the  fort. 
As  it  was  a  long  walk,  they  had  sufficient 
opportunity  for  explanations  and  other  con- 
versation. Brant  first  asked  his  friend  how 
old  Woodworth  happened  to  be  there,  and 
how  he  dared  to  be  in  that  locality. 

"  That  is  more  than  I  can  tell  you,"  was 
the  answer.  "  I  never  saw  the  man  before, 
but  Pharaoh  described  him  to  me  so  exactly, 
that  I  knew  him  as  soon  as  I  met  him.  As 
he  left,  he  told  me  to  say  to  you  that  he 
would  not  be  far  away  from  here,  and  that 
he  would  try  to  help  you  if  he  could.  Pha- 
raoh says  that  the  old  man  is  a  witch,  and 
can  do  any  thing." 

"  I  have  great  confidence  in  him,  also,  for 
he  is  the  most  inevitable  and  ubiquitous  in- 
dividual I  ever  saw.  But  I  am  at  a  loss  to 
know  how  he  is  going  to  help  me  to  get  out 
of  that  fort,  for  I  suppose  you  intend  taking 
me  in." 

"  Of  course,  being  a  stranger,  I  must  take 
you  in,  and  as  for  getting  out,  you  must 
trust  to  luck  and  your  own  wits,  for  I  shall 
not  venture  in  again.  My  uniform  will  do 
very  well  for  a  while,  as  no  one  there  knows 
any  thing  about  the  Fourth  Arkansas,  and  I 
can  tell  them  all  about  it,  but  it  would  be 
too  dangerous  to  risk  it  again,  as  it  is  very 
likely  I  might  meet  some  one  who  knows 
me..  Here  are  some  letters  which  old  Pha- 
raoh got  for  me  from  the  real  deserter.  You 
must  read  them  over,  and  make  up  as  piti- 
ful a  tale  as  you  can,  and  I  do  not  doubt 
that  you  will  have  a  good  enough  chance  to 
look  around.  That  Pharaoh  is  a  first-class 
hand  to  steal,  and  I  shall  be  almost  afraid 
to  trust  him  about  the  farm  any  more." 

"  Never  fear  about  my  getting  out,  after 
I  am  once  well  in.  Now,  tell  me  if  my  es- 
capade from  Jackson  caused  any  excite- 
ment." 

"  Very  little.  The  Provost-Marshal  was 
angry  enough,  and  the  sentry  was  put  under 
arrest;  but  when  the  General  saw  your  note, 


he  laughed,  and  said  it  was  cleverly  done. 
He  told  the  Provost  to  take  no  further  steps 
in  the  matter,  as  he  was  sorry  the  arrest 
had  been  made,  and  had  no  doubt  that  you 
would  turn  up  again  after  a  while.  '  These 
Yankees,'  said  he,  '  will  not  be  caught  play- 
ing spies,  when  they  can  make  money  in 
other  ways.'  The  matter  dropped  much 
easier  than  I  thought  it  would.  I  heard  the 
particulars  from  an  officer  on  the  General's 
Btaff." 

Satisfied  upon  these  points,  Brant  then 
asked  Charley  concerning  his  family,  hoping 
to  hear  something  about  Mabel.  He  was 
not  disappointed,  but  had  the  gratification 
of  learning  that  she  had  expressed  great 
anxiety  concerning  his  safety,  and  had  en- 
joined it  upon  Charley  to  do  all  he  could 
for  him,  and  persuade  him  to  leave  the 
dangerous  employment  in  which  he  was  en- 
gaged. Bob  felt  as  if  he  would  be  willing 
to  give  it  up  at  any  moment,  if  Mabel  Mer- 
cer would  promise  to  console  him  for  his 
broken  resolution.  Young  Mercer  also  told 
him  that  the  Major  had  been  making  pre- 
parations for  moving  up  into  Kentucky,  and 
would  probably  change  his  residence  imme- 
diately. 

His  curiosity  being  satisfied,  our  hero  ap- 
plied himself  to  reading  the  package  of  let- 
ters which  Charley  had  given  him,  in  order 
to  "  post  himself  up"  in  his  new  character, 
and  shortly  after  he  had  finished  his  read- 
ing, they  were  challenged  by  a  Confederate 
picket.  Mercer,  who,  for  the  time  being, 
was  Captain  Kirby,  of  the  Fourth  Arkansas 
regiment,  soon  made  known  his  business, 
and  the  two  friends  were  escorted  to  the 
fort,  where  they  were  conducted  to  the  office 
of  the  Provost-Marshal,  an  establishment 
whicli  Bob,  as  yet,  was  unable  to  enter 
without  experiencing  a  strange  sensation 
about  his  throat. 

"  Captain  Kirby"  produced  a  pass  for 
himself,  signed  by  Colonel  Burden,  of  the 
Fourth  Arkansas  regiment,  and  explained 
the  circumstances  under  which  he  had  ar- 
rested "  Thomas  Heffernan,"  a  deserter  from 
that  regiment,  whom  he  then  and  there  pro- 
duced. He  told  substantially  the  same 
story  he  had  told  at  Curwin's  tavern,  and 
Bob,  being  appealed  to,  gave  a  pitiful  but 
manly  narrative  of  his  escapade,  which 
strongly  disposed  the  officer  in  his  favor. 

"  As  I  had  business  in  this  direction,"  said 
Mercer,  "  the  Colonel  gave  me  a  furlough, 
and  said  that  while  I  was  here,  he  would 
like  me  to  look  up  this  yonng  man  and 


24 


BOB   BRANT,   PATRIOT   AND   SPY. 


bring  him  back  to  camp,  and  I  was  to  tell 
him  that  if  he  would  come  quietly  and 
promise  good  behavior  in  future,  his  punish- 
ment would  be  very  light,  if  any  thing.  I 
have  some  important  business  up  the  river, 
and  would  like  to  leave  him  in  your  care 
until  I  return,  say  for  four  or  five  days, 
when  I  will  have  transportation  for  him  to 
go  to  camp  with  me.  I  am  fully  convinced, 
that  when  I  found  him,  he  was  endeavoring 
to  make  his  way  back  to  camp,  and  as  he 
is  one  of  the  best  men  in  the  regiment,  I 
can  trust  him.  I  think  it,  therefore,  entirely 
unnecessary  to  confine  him,  if  he  will  give 
his  promise  not  to  attempt  to  escape." 

The  officer  replied  that  if  Captain  Kirby 
was  satisfied,  he  was,  and  that  Heffernan 
might  have  his  parole.  Bob  accordingly 
agreed  to  this  very  satisfactoiy  arrangement, 
assuring  the  "gentleman  from  Arkansas," 
that  he  would  find  him  there  on  his  return, 
which  was  certainly  near  enough  to  the 
truth. 

•  The  soi-dmant  Captain  Kirby  then  took 
his  departure,  pleading  the  importance  of 
his  business  and  the  shortness  of  his  fur- 
lough as  an  excuse  for  his  haste,  and  our 
hero  was  again  alone  in  a  strange  place,  and 
among  men  hostile  to  his  flag  and  himself 


CHAPTER    XTTT. 

Brants  Escape  and  Becapture. 

Bob  Brant  had  a  ready  tongue,  was 
plentifully  supplied  with  tact,  and  knew  well 
how  to  adapt  himself  to  circumstances.  He 
made  good  use  of  these  talents,  and  the  con- 
sequence was,  that,  so  far  from  being  con- 
fined, or  looked  upon  as  a  dangerous  char- 
acter, he  was  allowed  the  liberty  of  the  fort 
and  intrenchments,  and  was  treated  with 
more  consideration  than  he  could  have  ex- 
pected under  the  most  favorable  circum- 
stances. The  men  in  whose  company  he 
was  thrown,  looked  upon  him  as  a  sort  of 
hero,  as  a  martyr  to  love,  and  generally 
praised  his  "pluck."  The  officers,  also, 
whom  he  met,  treated  him  with  respect,  as 
a  man  of  intelligence  and  education,  espe- 
cially as  his  military  training,  enabled  him,  in 
his  walks  about  the  fortifications,  to  point 
out  and  show  them  how  to  remedy  some 
trifling  defects  in  the  works  and  in  the  posi- 
tion and  management  of  the  guns,  which 
had  been  overlooked  by  the  superior  officers. 


This  was  done  in  a  modest  and  unobtrusive 
manner,  that  gained  him  friends  and  pro- 
cured him  facilities  that  he  would  not  other*  # 
wise  have  had. 

In  short,  he  was  well  treated,  and  could 
have  been  contented,  had  it  not  been  that  it 
was  necessary  for  him  to  get  away  from 
there,  and  that  speedily.  He  was  satisfied 
with  his  experience  of  the  inside  of  the  fort, 
as  he  had  gained  all  the  information  he 
wished,  and  now  he  greatly  desired  to  see 
the  outside.  On  the  afternoon  of  the  day 
after  he  had  been  brought  in,  he  concluded 
that  he  had  no  more  business  there,  and 
that  it  would  be  safe,  as  well  as  more  pro- 
fitable to  leave. 

Therefore,  he  concluded  to  bid  adieu  to 
Fort  Donelson,  until  he  could  reenter  it 
under  the  protection  of  the  Stars  and  Stripes. 

But  how  was  it  to  be  done  ?  He  saw 
that  the  attempt  was  dangerous,  but  he  did 
not  puzzle  his  brain  long  before  he  decided 
on  the  best  way  to  make  it.  He  might 
easily  have  obtained  the  countersign,  and 
might  probably  have  passed  out  unques- 
tioned, but  he  was  convinced  that  it  could 
not  be  long  before  he  would  be  stopped  or 
overtaken.  He  knew  that  he  must  leave  at 
night  and  by  stealth.  At  the  eastern  angle 
of  the  principal  work  he  had  noticed  that  a 
heavy  gun  had  been  recently  placed,  and 
that  the  earth  had  shelved  away  from  the 
embankment,  leaving  a  considerable  space 
below  the  gun,  and  half  filling  the  ditch. 
He  had  also  noticed  that  the  fallen  trees 
and  masses  of  brushwood  were  thicker  op- 
posite this  angle  than  elsewhere,  and  that 
the  distance  to  the  woods  was  less,  thus  af- 
fording the  best  chance  for  concealment 
during  his  escape,  and  for  a  cover  when  the 
escape  was  effected.  He  resolved  to  attempt 
to  leave  by  that  avenue,  and  to  make  the 
attempt  that  night. 

Accordingly,  watching  a  time  when  he 
could  be  alone,  he  made  a  few  condensed 
memoranda,  and  sketched  a  plan  of  the 
works  and  guns,  upon  a  small  scrap  of  paper 
as  would  contain  them,  and  concealed  it 
under  the  insole  of  his  boot,  He  remenv 
bered  the  fate  of  Major  Andre,  but  concluded 
that  that  unfortunate  officer  had  no  insole  to 
his  boot. 

This  done,  he  wandered  about  the  baiv 
racks,  and  accepted  several  invitations  to 
partake  surreptitiously,  of  the  extract  of 
corn,  of  which  he  appeared  to  drink  very 
freely,  so  much  so,  that  he  was  cautioned 
of  the  danger  of  taking  too  much.     But, 


OUT    OP    FORT    DONELSON. 


despite  the  caution,  he  permitted  so  much 
of  the  enticing  fluid  to  get  into  his  head, 
that  (I  grieve  to  say  it,  but  as  a  faithful 
chronicler  am  obliged  to  record  it,)  when 
"taps"  struck,  he  was  disinclined  to  take 
the  trouble  to  undress,  and  fell  upon  his 
bunk,  with  not  only  his  coat  but  his  boots 
on.  His  mates  in  the  log  hut  thought  him 
a  good  subject  for  jokes,  and  exhausted  their 
wit  upon  him,  the  best  attempt  being 

" Now  lies  he  there, 

And  none  so  poor  to  do  him  reverence," 

•until  they  also  dropped  off  to  sleep.-' 

When  this  occurred,  a  change  came  over 
the  spirit  of  Brant's  dream,  if  any  dream  he 
had  had.  The  fumes  of  the  liquor  seemed 
to  affect  him  no  longer,  and  his  movements 
were  those  of  a  man  with  a  clear  head  and 
steady  nerves.  He  sat  up,  looked  about, 
moved  lightly  around  the  room,  as  if  to  sat- 
isfy himself  that  his  room-mates  were  indeed 
asleep,  then  put  on  his  hat  and  stepped 
lightly  out  of  the  door. 

The  night  was  cloudy  and  dark,  and  as 
he  breathed  the  cool,  damp  air,  he  almost 
felt  free.  He  moved  silently  and  stealthily 
along  the  outer  edge  of  the  log  huts,  occa- 
sionally slipping  around  to  the  inner  side 
of  one,  as  he  saw  a  sentinel  approaching, 
until  he  reached  the  angle  which  he  desired 
to  find.  Then,  stepping  quickly  from  the 
shadow  of  a  hut,  he  reached  the  heavy  gun 
which  had  lately  been  mounted  at  this 
angle,  and  crouched  by  the  side  of  its  car- 
riage. From  this  position  he  peered  out, 
and  saw  a  sentinel  approaching'  by  the  side 
of  the  parapet,  at  a  measured  pace.  Bob 
speedily  ensconced  himself  under  the  gun, 
lying  lengthwise  with  it,  and  identifying 
himself  with  the  mass  of  iron,  so  that  he 
could  not  be  observed  in  the  darkness. 
Here  he  lay,  scarcely  daring  to  breathe, 
until  the  sentinel  passed,  within  a  few  feet 
of  him,  whistling  as  he  went  by.  As  soon 
as  this  man  was  well  out  of  the  way,  Bob 
slipped  down  into  the  ditch,  and  clambered 
up  on  the  other  side.  He  knew  that  it 
would  be  fully  ten  minutes  before  the  sen- 
tinel returned  to  that  spot,  and  accordingly 
crawled  upon  his  hands  and  knees  for  a  few 
rods  through  the  fallen  trees  and  brush,  until 
he  found  shelter  under  the  withered  leaves 
of  a  tree-top,  where  he  hid  and  awaited  for 
the  return  of  the  sentinel. 

He  had  not  long  to  wait,  for  soon  he 
again  heard  the  measured  step  and  the  low 
whistle,  and  again  knew  that  it  had  passed 
by.     Again  he  worked  his  way,  slowly  and 


toilsomely,  through  the  debris,  until  he  stop- 
ped at  another  cover.  He  had  not  been 
exactly  quick  enough,  however,  for  the  sol- 
dier, as  he  returned,  caught  the  sound  of  a 
rustling  in  the  brush,  and  stopped  and 
looked. 

"  Who  goes  there  ?"  rung  from  the  fort. 

Bob  lay  quiet.  He  was  well  concealed, 
and  all  was  silent. 

"  Some  kind  of  a  varmint,  I  reckon," 
muttered  the  sentinel,  and  resumed  his  soli- 
tary walk  and  his  whistling. 

In  this  way  Bob  worrhed  himself  along, 
until  he  was  sure  that  he  was  out  of  sight 
or  hearing  of  the  fort.  It  was  slow  work, 
and  was  hard  work,  but  liberty  was  ahead, 
and  more  than  liberty,  the  honor  of  his 
flag,  the  glory  of  his  country,  the  cause  of 
the  Union.  He  thought  of  this,  and,  above 
all,  it  must  be  confessed,  he  thought  of 
Mabel  Mercer,  and  resolved  to  be  cautious 
while  he  was  bold.  Therefore,  he  still  picked 
his  way  carefully,  but  quietly,  until  he 
reached  a  clear  space,  a  short  distance  from 
the  timber,  when  he  ran  for  the  protection 
of  the  standing  trees. 

Once  under  their  shade,  he  breathed  more 
freely,  but  he  was  again  perplexed.  As  the 
night  was  dark,  and  he  had  only  a  very 
general  idea  of  distances  and  directions,  he 
did  not  know  what  course  to  strike.  He 
had  no  time  to  spare  for  consideration,  and 
pushed  out  boldly,  keeping  near  the  edge 
of  the  timber,  and  trusting  to  luck  to  hit 
some  road.  He  walked  rapidly,  and  partly 
ran,  taking  care  not  to  stumble,  or  to  make 
any  unnecessary  noise.  He  knew  that  he 
would  be  obliged  to  pass  the  Confederate 
pickets,  but  as  he  had  learned,  while  in  the 
fort,  the  approximate  position  of  the  picket 
line,  he  had  little  fear  on  that  score.  After 
a  while  he  espied  a  faint  light  to  the  right, 
whereupon  he  made  a  detour  a  short  dis- 
tance to  the  left,  and  pursued  his  way  more 
carefully  and  silently,  until  he  had  left  the 
light  well  to  his  right  and  rear,  when  he 
again  hurried  forward  more  rapidly  and 
boldly  than  before.  Thus  he  continued  for 
more  than  an  hour,  and  had  begun  to  won- 
der when,  if  ever,  he  was  to  find  his  way 
out,  when  he  came  to  a  clear  space,  and 
perceived  the^  dim  outline  of  a  house  a  short 
distance  ahead.  Of  course,  where  there 
was  a  house,  there  must  be  a  road,  and 
Brant  considered  that  his  best  plan  would 
be  to  make  for  the  building. 

When  he  reached  it,  it  was  soon  evident 
that  it  was  no  other  than  the  "  hotel "  of 


26 


BOB    BRANT,    PATRIOT    AND    SPY. 


Michael  Curwin,  at  which  he  had  stopped 
two  nights  before .  Our  hero  was  surprised 
to  learn  that  he  had  traveled  in  that  direc- 
tion, but  was  glad  that  he  now  knew  where 
he  was,  and  that  he  could  see  his  way  clear. 
Jumping  over  the  low  fence,  he  found  him- 
self in  the  main  road,  and  stepped  on 
rapidly,  as  he  had  been  over  the  road  before, 
without  experiencing  any  difficulty.  He 
knew  that  if  he  was  missed  from  the  fort  in 
the  morning,  it  'would  probably  be  a  con- 
siderable time  before  his  absence  would  be 
noticed,  and  felt  confident  that  he  could  get 
out  of  harm's  way  before  pursuit  would  be 
made. 

He  had  proceeded  about  a  quarter  of  a 
mile,  when  he  came  to  a  small  road  or  lane, 
which  led  off  to  the  left  Here  he  stopped, 
to  medit-ate  a  moment  on  the  proper  course 
to  pursue.  The  stop  was  fatal,  for  there 
was  a  quick  rush  from  a  thicket  at  the  side 
of  the  road,  and,  before  Brant  could  look 
around,  he  was  seized  by  the  arms  behind 
his  back,  and,  despite  his  struggles,  these 
useful  members  of  his  body  were  speedily 
and  strongly  bound  in  that  position. 


CHAPTER   XIV. 
The  Captive  Rescued. 

"  "Well,  Tve  caught  ye,  hev  I  ?"  was  the 
first  exclamation  he  heard. 

His  captor  then  stepped  in  front  of  him, 
and  Brant  saw,  to  his  dismay,  that  it  was 
old  Curwin  himself  His  ugly  features  were 
tortured  into  a  hideous  grin,  and  his  gray 
eyes  shone  with  satisfaction  from  under 
their  shaggy  brows.  By  bis  side  stood  a 
grinning  darkey  boy,  apparently  fourteen  or 
fifteen  years  old. 

Bob  was  not  pleased ;  in  fact,  he  was  ter- 
ribly disgusted  with  the  situation  of  affairs. 
He  was  more  than  disgusted — he  was  abso- 
lutely alarmed — for  he  felt  sure  that  this 
old  sinner  would  carry  him  to  the  fort,  and 
there  deliver  him  up ;  and  he  also  was  sure 
that  he  was  completely  in  his  power,  and 
had  no  chance  of  escaping,  unless  Provi- 
dence should  interfere ;  and  once  in  the  fort, 
he  well  knew  what  his  fate  would  he. 
There  came  a  sudden  and  dizzy  rush  <>f 
feeling  over  him,  in  which  were  mixed  up 
the  duty  expected  of  him,  the  blessed  old 
flag  of  his  country,  his  father,  his  home, 
and  Mabel  Mercer,  while  beyond  all,   his 


prophetic  vision  perceived  a  dangling  rope, 
with  an  ominous  noose  at  the  end.  But 
this  feeling  passed  as  soon  as  it  came,  and 
Bob  braced  himself  up,  resolved,  if  it  came 
to  the  worst,  to  meet  his  fate  like  a  man, 
but  in  the  mean  time  to  lose  no  opportunity 
in  endeavoring  to  avert  it. 

"  I've  caught  ye,  hev  I  ?"  repeated  Curwin, 
eyeing  his  prisoner  with  a  look  of  malicious 
glee.  "  Thought  ye  was  gettin'  off  mighty 
cute,  didn't  ye  ?  Lucky  I  happened  to  be 
out  late  to-night,  or  I  wouldn't  hev  lit  on 
ye.  My  old  eyes  was  sharp  enough  to  tell 
who  ye  was,  as  soon  as  I  sot  'em  on  ye ; 
and,  thinks  I,  there's  that  ere  desarte#,  if  he 
ain't  no  wuss,  a-makin'  tracks  for  Yankee 
land ;  and  this  old  coon  laid  for  ye,  he  did, 
and  got  ye,  too,  ye  dogoned  ornary  skunk !" 

"  You  are  entirely  mistaken,  sir,"  protest- 
ed Bob.  "  I  have  left  the  fort  on  my 
parole,  if  you  understand  what  that  means, 
and  was  on  my  way  to  join  my  regiment." 

"  That  won't  do,  young  man.  I've  hearn 
such  chaps  as  you  say  that  sort  of  thing 
before  now,  for  I've  caught  fellers  as  was 
desartin',  and  hev  made  suthin'  out  of  'em, 
too ;  and  'pears  to  me  you  told  purty  much 
the  same  story  night  afore  last  to  the  Cap- 
tain, and  the  Captain  took  ye  to  the  fort 
any  how,  and  I  reckon  I'll  do  jist  as  he  did. 
Do  ye  see  any  thin'  green  in  my  eye  ?" 

"  Not  in  this  fight,"  said  Bob ;  "  I  haven't 
a  good  chance  to  look." 

"  Don't  go  to  be  sassy,  young  man,  or  it'll 
be  worse  for,  ye.  I've  got  the  whip  hand 
of  ye  now,  as  ye  had  of  me  t'other  night, 
and  more,  too,  and  I'm  jist  a-considerin',  at 
this  minit,  whether  I  shall  blow  yer  durned 
brains  out,  or  take  ye  into  the  fort ;  but  I 
reckon  the  fort'll  win,  as  they  pay  well  thar 
for  your  style.  Now,  jist  you  move  along 
purty  sharp,  or  I'll  put  ye  whar  ye  won't 
stir  yer  legs  again  till  judgment  day." 

The  inducement  of  a  pistol  held  to  his 
head  was  sufficient  to  persuade  Brant  to  do 
as  his  captor  required,  and  the  three  started 
in  the  direction  of  the  "  hotel,"  old  Curwin 
walking  upon  our  hero's  right,  with  his  left 
hand  upon  his  shoulder,  while  the  right 
clenched  a  cocked  pistol,  and  the  negro  boy 
shuffled  along  a  little  in  advance,  and  to  the 
left. 

"  At  one  moment,  Bob  thought  of  bribing 
this  ardent  patriot,  but  he  recollected  that 
he  was  in  his  power,  and  had  no  control 
over  the  money  in  his  pocket,  and  instantly 
rejected  the  idea.  But  another  thought 
struck  him,  and  he  was  unwilling  to  miss 


"OLD    BILL    WOODWORTH,"    AGAIN. 


27 


any  chance  of  regaining  his  liberty,  now  so 
valuable  to  him. 

"  Can  you  read  ?"  said  he,  to  the  old 
man. 

"  Me  read  !  Well,  perhaps  I  could  when 
I  was  younger'n  I  am  now ;  but  if  I  ever 
could,  I've  done  forgot  it.  My  old  woman 
used  to  do  my  readin'  and  writin'  for  me, 
but  she's  gone  dead,  and  now  I  don't  want 
to  do  none.  What  do  ye  want  to  know 
fur?" 

"Because,  if  you  could  read,  I  would 
show  you  a  letter  I  have  from  the  officer 
commanding  the  fort,  giving  me  a  pass  to 
Arkansas." 

Of  course  our  hero  could  not  be  expected 
to  confine  himself  strictly  to  the  truth.  It 
was  not  in  his  instructions  that  he  should 
do  so  ;  in  fact,  his  instructions  tended  quite 
the  other  way ;  and  the  commanders  of  the 
army  of  the  Union,  and  through  them, 
honest  Abraham  Lincoln,  were  responsible 
for  any  such  slight  misstatements  as  he 
might  consider  it  necessary  to  make. 
Young  Brant,  however,  did  not  pause  to 
consider  the  matter  in  either  a  moral  or  an 
ethical  point  of  view ;  he  had  hoped  to  im- 
pose upon  Curwin's  ignorance  one  of  the 
letters  to  "  Thomas  Heffernan,  private,"  as 
a  genuine  epistle  from  the  commander  of 
Fort  Donelson,  but  the  bait  would  not 
take. 

"  I  rather  reckon  ye  can't  play  any  games 
on  me,"  said  Curwin,  "  and  thar's  no  use  in 
yer  tryin'  it  on  any  more.  I  won't  say  that 
ye  hain't  got  sech  a  letter,  but  if  ye  hev,  I 
know  I  can't  read  it,  and  am  sure  they  ken, 
at  the  fort ;  so  ye  may  jest  show  it  to  'em 
thar." 

"  Massa  Mike,"  said  the  negro  boy,  "  is 
dis  gen'leman  one  o'  dem  Yankee  Linkin's 
dat  wants  to  steal  us  poor  niggers  ?" 

"I  ain't  quite  sartin  about  that,  Jake, 
though  I  don't  think  he's  quite  so  bad  as 
that." 

"Lor,  Massa  Mike,  I's  mighty  'feard  o' 
dem  Yankee  folks.  What  does  they  do  wid 
de  niggers  wen  dey  cotch  'em?" 

"They  kills  'em  and  roasts  'em,  Jake, 
and  you  may  be  thankful  that  you  was 
borned  in  a  country  whar  ye're  took  keer 
on,  and  whar  ye  hain't  no  call  to  be  'feard 
on  'em. 

"I  jest  did  thort  I  seed  one  ob  'em  dis 
bery  night,  and  I  don't  'spect  he's  ever  so  far 
from  here,  neither." 

As  the  boy  said  this,  he  threw  a  quick, 
but  significant  glance  at  our  hero,  who  was 


momentarily  startled,  and  .thought  of  old 
Bill  Woodworth. 

"  Jest  you  hold  yer  yaup,  youngster,  or 
ye'll  ketch  a  cowhidin'  when  ye  git  home." 

Bob  Brant  thought  that  he  saw  a  straw 
to  catch  at.  Dropping  suddenly  upon  one 
knee,  he  assumed  an  expression  of  pain,  and 
exclaimed  that  there  was  something  in  his 
boot,  which  hurt  his  foot  so  that  he  was 
unable  to  walk.  He  requested  his  captor 
to  loose  his  hands,  that  he  might  see  what 
was  the  matter. 

"  No  ye  don't,  young  man,"  doggedly  re- 
plied that  worthy.  "  I  'spect  this  is  some 
new  trick  ye've  been  a-gettin'  up.  But  I 
don't  want  to  be  hard  on  ye,  so  jest  sit 
down,  and  let  this  yere  nigger  pull  off  your 
boot." 

Brant  sat  down,  accordingly,  and  held  out 
his  foot  to  the  boy,  while  Curwin  bent  over 
his  shoulder,  cursing  very  volubly.  As  the 
boy  took  hold  of  the  boot,  Bob  thought,  in 
an  interval  that  occurred  between  the  old 
man's  curses,  that  he  heard  a  step.  He 
also  noticed  that  the  boy  cast  a  glance  down 
the  road.  But  the  sound,  if  any  there  was, 
did  not  continue,  and  Bob  concluded  that 
the  wish  was  father  to  the  thought. 

The  boot  come  off  very  slowly,  but  at 
last  the  boy,  Jake,  held  it  in  his  hand. 
Curwin  leaned  over  to  take  it,  and  Brant 
thought  he  heard  the  step  again.  He  was 
not  mistaken  this  time,  for  the  next  instant 
he  heard  a  dull,  heavy  sound,  and  his  late 
landlord  and  present  captor  fell  over  him, 
and  rolled  on  the  ground. 

Brant  jumped  up  as  quickly  as  his  bound 
arms  would  permit  him,  and  saw  before  him 
old  Bill  Woodworth,  who  stood  looking  at 
the  fallen  man,  and  holding  a  pistol  by  the 
barrel." 

"The  cussed  critter  I"  said  Woodworth, 
"  I  feel  just  as  if  I  could  rim  my  knife 
through  his  dirty  gizzard,  and  I  would,  too, 
ef  it  wasn't  that  I  don't  take  naterally  to 
murderin'  fellow  critters  in  cold  blood, 
though  it's  nothin'  more'n  what  they  did  to 
my  poor  boy,  curse  'em  1  Here,  Mr.  Brant, 
let  me  onfasten  these  yere  lashin's  ;  I've  got 
another  use  for  'em." 

He  proceeded  to  untie  Brant's  arms,  and 
used  the  rope  to  fasten  those  of  Curwin, 
who  was  still  insensible  from,  the  effects  of 
the  blow  that  Woodworth  had  given  bim 
with  the  butt  end  of  his  pistol. 

"  A  friend  in  need  is  a  friend  indeed," 
said  Bob,  as  he  grasped  the  rough  hand  of 
the  ugly  but  honest  patriot.     I  felt  gloomy 


BOB    BRANT,    PATRIOT    AND    SPY. 


enough  five  minutes  ago,  though  I  hadn't 
given  up  hope,  for  I' half  believed  you  would 
turn  up  at  the  right  place  and  time,  and  I 
have  a  pretty  good  knack  at  getting  out  of 
scrapes  myself." 

"  Well,"  said  Woodworfh,  "  we'll  do  our 
talkin'  some  other  time.  Just  now  we  must 
be  for  gettin'  away  from  this.  Here,  Jake, 
help  me  carry  this  old  wretch  to  the  side  of 
the  road.  He'll  come  to,  purty  soon,  I 
reckon,  and'll  be  meaner  and  sneakin'er,  and 
more  spitful'n  ever." 

With  the  assistance  of  the  negro  boy, 
who  had  been  standing  by  with  an  expres- 
sion of  wonder  and  delight  upon  his  sooty 
countenance,  he  deposited  Curwin  upon  the 
grass  at  the  roadside. 

"  Thar,  now ;  them  as  he  belongs  to  ken 
pick  him  up  and  cure  his  headache  for  him. 
Tain't  anythin'  to  what  he  desarves.  Tou, 
Jake" — the  negro  boy's  eyes  brightened — 
"  the  time  I  told  ye  about  hes  come,  and  I 
never  split  my  word  to  no  man,  be  he  black 
or  white,  cept  he's  a  traitor,  and  then  I  ken 
outlie  the  devil  himself.  Now,  if  ye  want 
yer  freedom,  jest  pick  up  that  old  man's 
pistol  and  come  along  i'  us,  and  ye  may  bet 
yer  wool  he  shan't  flog  ye  agin.  Ken  ye 
shoot,  young  nigger  ?" 

"  Oh,  yes,  Massa  Bill.  I  used  to  knock 
over  de  chickens  when  we  had  chickens, 
but  'pearslike  I  sh'd  be  'feard  to  shoot  at  a 
white  man." 

"  Jake,  these  yere  rebils  ain't  white  men, 
by  no  manner  of  means.  Ther  hearts  is  a 
durned  sight  blacker'n  your  face  ever  darred 
to  be ;  so  ye  ken  jest  shoot  at  'em  with  a 
cl'ar  conscience  and  a  stiddy  aim.  Pick  up 
that  weepon  and  trot  along." 

The  boy  quickly  did  as  he  was  desired, 
and,  as  he  ran  gayly  before  the  two  scouts, 
his  nature  seemed  suddenly  to  have  changed. 
He  had  lost  his  shuffling  gait  and  hangdog 
look,  and  his  step  was  light  and  springing, 
his  countenance  bright  and  cheerful.  Wood- 
worth  noticed  the  change,  and  mentioned  it 
to  Brant,  with  a  low,  chuckling  laugh. 

"  Do  ye  see  that  ar  nigger,  Mr.  Brant  ? 
He  ain't  the  boy  he  was  a  half  hour  ago — 
no,  nor  ten  minutes  ago,  neither.  Tell  ye 
now,  'tain't  so  easy  to  fool  these  yere  niggers 
as  some  folks  think  fur.  They  know  a  heap 
more'n  they  like  to  let  on,  and  some  on  'em 
has  got  so  many  secrets  among  'em,  that  it's 
a  wonder  they  don't  bust.  Thar  mass'rs 
thinks  they  hes  'em  fooled,  but  human  natur 
is  mighty  desaivin',  'specially  nigger  natur. 
A  nigger  alius  will  be  a  nigger ;  thar's  no 


gittin'  around  that,  but  some  on  'em  has 
got  a  right  smart  notion  of  come-out  to  'em. 
Now,  I  hain't  knowed  that  nigger  more'n 
two  weeks,  fur  I  haint  been  in  this  part  of 
the  kentry  till  lately,  but  he  jest  took  to  me 
at  the  first  6tart,  and  he's  done  me  some 
mighty  good  turns.  I  told  him  I'd  pay  him 
with  his  freedom,  and  now  he  thinks  he'a 
got  it,  as  ye  ken  jedge  by  his  looks  and  his 
actions.  Mr.  Brant,  ef  ye  go  into  camp,  as 
I  s'pose  ye  will,  for  your  life  is  too  good  and 
too  young  to  be  throwed  away  in  this  sort 
of  work,  and  ye  want  a  sarvant,  jest  freeze 
to  that  boy,  and  Til  be  the  warrant  that  he'll 
freeze  to  you" 

After  a  few  moments'  rapid  walking,  old 
Bill  turned  a  short  distance  into  the  wood, 
where  two  horses  were  discovered,  tied  to 
the  tall  trees.  Brant  recognized  in  one  of. 
them  the  animal  which  he  had  obtained 
from  Charley  Mercer,  and  which  Wood- 
worth  had  taken  from  Curwin's  "  hotel." 

"  You,  Jake,"  said  their  guide,  "  do  you 
know  whar  yer  mass'r's  boss  is?  —  old 
Mike's,  I  orter  say,  fer  he  ain't  yer  mass'r 
no  longer." 

"  Oh,  yes,  Massa  Bill ;  de  hoss  jest  ober 
here  in  de  field,  'cross  de  road." 

"  Then  take  this  rope,  and  run  and  git 
him,  and  bring  him  here  quicker'n  lightnin'. 
'Tain't  no  hoss  stealin',  mind  ye,"  he  con- 
tinued, seeing  the  boy  hesitate.  "  I  jest 
confisticate  that  ar  hoss,  in  the  name  of  the 
United  States  of  America  and  of  old  Abe 
Lincoln,  I  do ;  so  jest  you  jump,  wuss'n  a 
squirrel  1" 

The  boy  disappeared  like  a  flash  of 
lightning,  if  so  dark  an  object  can  be  com- 
pared to  lightning. 


CHAPTER    XV. 

Journey  of  Brant  and   WoodwortJu 

"Now,  Mr.  Brant,"  said  Woodworth, 
"  gist  hand  over  to  me  what  papers  you've 
got  to  6end  in ;  for  I  know  the  kentry,  and 
ken  git  'em  to  camp  quicker'n  you  ken. 
Besides,  when  we  fetch  up  whar  We  'spect 
to  rest  to-night,  I'm  doubtin'  whether  ye'll 
car  to  go  any  turther." 

"  I  hope  you  do  not  suppose  that  a  day's 
ride  will  tire  me  out,"  expostulated  Bob. 
"  I  think  I  can  stand  as  much  as  any  man 
of  my  inches." 

"P'raps  ye  ken;  I  ain't  doubtin'  about 


THE   OLD    SCOUT'S   NARRATIVE. 


that,  but  still  I  say  what  I  do  say,  and  I  hev 
my  reasons  for  sayin'  it,  too.  But  in  my 
suckemstances,  the  papers  are  better  off  with 
me." 

Bob  pulled  off  his  boot,  and  handed  the 
scrap  of  paper  to  the  old  man,  who  carefully 
made  a  small  opening  in  the  lining  of  his 
boot,  in  which  he  placed  the  scrap,  and  then 
closed  the  aperture  with  some  gum  from  a 
tree. 

"  Thar !  ef  they  should  ever  take  me  alive, 
I  don't  think  they'd  hev  that  evidence  agin 
me,  though  God  knows  they've  got  plenty 
more.  Te'll  find  yer  pistils  in  them  holsters, 
Mr.  Brant,  and  ye'd  better  see  ef  they're  all 
right.  A  keerful  man  alius  looks  keerfully 
to  his  weepons.    Now  let  us  git  out  of  this." 

The  two  imtied  and  mounted  their  horses, 
and  walked  them  out  of  the  timber,  into  the 
road,  where  they  met  Jake  coming  up  at  a 
gallop,  riding  barebacked,  and  guiding  his 
uorse  by  the  halter.  As  soon  as  he  saw 
them,  he  commenced  whooping  and  causing 
the  animal  he  rode  to  prance  and  curvet. 

"  None  of  that,  now,  young  darkey,"  said 
the  old  scout,  "  ye'd  better  stick  to  yer  old 
erainin'  till  ye  ken  git  a  better  one.  But 
remember  that  I'm  yer  mass'r  now,  till  ye 
fotch  up  in  the  land  of  freedom,  and  then  I 
reckon  ye'd  better  sarve  under  old  Abe  Lin- 
kin,  till  ye  larn  how  to  take  car  of  yerself. 
Ye  can  jest  ride  along  quietly,  behind  us 
white  folks,  and  keep  at  a  'spectful  distance. 
Mind  ye  hev  an  eye  out  over  yer  shoulder, 
to  see  if  all's  right  behind,  and  don't  let  me 
see  no  more  of  yer  monkey  shines." 

The  party  then  proceeded  at  a  slow  trot, 
Woodworth  and  Brant  in  the  advance,  with 
the  boy,  Jake,  bringing  up  the  rear.  By 
this  time  the  darkness  was  sensibly  decreas- 
ing, and  the  sky  begun  to  show  evidences 
of  approaching  daylight. 

"  Start  up  yer  boss,  Mr.  Brant,"  said  the 
guide.  "  We've  got  some  thirty  odd  miles 
to  ride  afore  we  ken  count  ourselves  any 
ways  safe.  "We  ken  make  it  easy  enough, 
but  it  stands  us  in  hand  to  git  ten  or  a  dozen 
miles  away  from  this  afore  daylight  fairly 
breaks,  and  then  we  must  take  it  easy,  fur 
it  won't  do  to  git  our  hosses  blowed.  Thar's 
stragglin'  parties  of  the  rebils  about  this 
kentry  all  the  time,  and  we  may  need  all  the 
wind  that  these  four  legs  under  us  ken  carry, 
to  git  us  out  of  the  way  of  some  of  the 
scamps." 

They  all  pushed  their  horses  to  the  gal- 
lop, and  the  road  disappeared  rapidly  under 
their  feet.     To  young  Brant  the  hour,  the 


fresh,  cool  air,  the  spirited  horse  he  rode, 
the  remembrance  of  the  great  danger  from 
which  he  had  lately  escaped,  the  sense  of 
the  lesser  peril  he  was  now  in,  and  the  hope 
of  again  meeting  Mabel  Mercer,  combined 
to  exhilarate  him,  and  to  render  the  ride  a 
thing  to  be  remembered  in  after  life.  The 
boy,  Jake,  also,  was  running  over  with  ex- 
citement, and  it  needed  frequent  admoni- 
tions from  Woodworth  to  restrain  his  ardent 
desire  to  get  on  faster.  The  sense  of  his 
newly-acquired  freedom,  and  the  hope  of 
preserving  it,  were  even  stronger  feelings 
than  those  which  actuated  the  whiter  and 
better-educated  young  gentleman  who  rode 
before  him. 

They  rode  thus  for  about  an  hour  and  a 
half,  over  a  rather  rough  road,  when  the 
guide  turned  into  a  smaller  and  less  fre- 
quented road,  which  led  off  to  the  left,  and 
let  his  horse  drop  into  a  walk.  Brant  fol- 
lowed his  example.  It  was  now  nearly 
daylight,  but  no  signs  of  life  had  as  yet  been 
seen  at  any  of  the  farm-houses  or  cabins 
they  had  passed.  Bob  thought  it  a  good 
time  to  gain  some  enlightenment  from  his 
companion,  and  accordingly  asked  him  how 
he  had  happened  to  meet  him  at  Gurwin's 
tavern,  and  on  the  road,  after  he  had  been 
captured. 

The  old  scout  chuckled : 

"  Oh,  that  was  easy  enough,"  he  said, 
"  As  I  told  ye,  I  hain't  been  in  this  kentry 
till  lately,  and  none  of  the  folks  livin'  about 
here  knowd  me ;  so  'twasn't  near  so  dan- 
gerous as  it  is  on  t'other  side  the  Tennessee, 
though  of  course  it's  ruther  resky  like.  Be- 
sides, I've  got  inter  the  way  of  makin'  friends 
with  the  niggers,  and  relyin'  on  them  con- 
sidabul,  and  I  ken  tell  ye  that  I  hevn't  tried 
one  on  'em  yit  that  was  any  ways  onreli- 
able,  leastways,  not  to  me.  Among  'em  I 
struck  that  boy,  Jake,  and  I  must  say  for 
the  young  nigger,  that  he's  put  me  up  to  one 
or  two  tricks,  sech  as  I  wouldn't  'a  thort  on 
myself.  I  knew  from  Major  Mercer's  Pha- 
raoh, who  is  a  most  overpowerin'  sort  of  a 
nigger,  and  he's  some  onaccountabul  ways 
of  gittin'  around  and  doin'  things,  when  ye 
was  to  be  at  Curwin's  tarvern,  and  the  boy 
stuffed  the  old  man  up  with  a  tale  I  told 
him  to  tell  about  me,  so  that  I  was  all  right 
on  that  goose  question.  I  soon  found  out 
that  two  of  the  men  who  were  in  thar  when 
you  come  in  didn't  hev  any  too  much  secesh 
into  'em ;  so  that  if  it  had  come  to  a  fight 
we'd  hev  had  a  far  show,  though  them  two 
critters   was    no    'count    ornary   cowards, 


30 


BOB   BRANT,   PATRIOT   AND   SPY. 


anyhow.  When  young  Mercer  come  in,  I  saw 
it  was  all  right ;  for  that  game  was  as  plain 
as  the  nose  on  my  face,  which  is  tolabul 
plain.  I  'spect  I  could  hev  got  into  that 
yere  fort,  and  got  out  of  it,  too,  by  myself; 
but  I  knowed  nothin'  about  readin'  and 
writin',  and  it  needed  a  man  of  edication 
and  discarnment,  like  yourself,  for  that 
work." 

Brant  thought  of  Mabel  Mercer's  request 
to  him,  through  Charley,  to  leave  the  dan- 
gerous service  on  which  he  was  employed, 
and  the  feeling  that  this  rough  and  untutored 
backwoodsman  could  surpass  him  in  the 
vocation  he  had  chosen,  contributed  to  shake 
his  resolution  to  devote  his  life  to  his  coun- 
try as  a  spy  and  scout ;  but  he  summoned 
up  his  patriotism,  and  endeavored  to  shake 
off  the  feeling. 

"  Well,"  continued  Woodworth,  "  sence 
that  affair  at  the  tarvern,  Tve  been  a-layin' 
around  here  o'  nights,  for  I  knowed  ye'd  git 
out  o'  the  fort  as  soon  as  ye  could,  and 
knowed  ye'd  hev  to  leave  at  night.  I  had 
two  or  three  niggers  I  could  depend  on, 
a-watchin'  too,  and  I  'spect  ye  wouldn't  hev 
gone  fur  without  lightin'  on  some  of  us. 
Here,  Jake !" 

The  black  boy  rode  up. 

"  How  was  it  old  Curwin  happened  to  be 
out  at  that  time  o'  night  ?  Be  sure  ye  tell 
me  the  truth,  now." 

"  Why,  Mass'  Bill,  de  ole  man  an'  me,  we 
went  out  to  steal  a  pig  which  de  ole  man 
knowed  about ;  but  he  couldn't  find  de  pig, 
an'  he  was  awful  mad,  an'  so  he  drunk  up 
all  de  whisky  in  de  bottle,  an'  guv  me  a 
thrashin' ;  an'  we  was  a-goin'  home  when  he 
saw  this  gen'leman  in  the  road,  an'  den — " 

"  That'll  do,  now,  black  boy,  and  you 
may  fall  back.  As  I  was  a-sayin',  Mr. 
Brant,  I  was  lyin'  around,  and  thort  I'd  take 
a  little  scout  up  the  road,  and  thar  I  saw 
that  bloody  old  secesher  a-marchin'  you 
along.  I  dug"  inter  the  timber  till  I  got 
nigh  yer,  and  then  ye'd  stopped  and  was  a- 
settin'  down;  so  I  sneaked  up  quiet-like, 
till  I  got  near  enough  to  knock  the  old 
wretch 'over  the  head  with  the  butt  of  my 
pistil.  The  boy  saw  me  as  I  come  up,  but 
I  had  got  him  trained,  and  knowed  he 
wouldn't  be  in  the  way." 

"  It  seemed  to  me,"  said  Bob,  "  that  you 
did  not  arrive  a  moment  too  soon,  for  I  had 
nearly  made  up  my  mind  that  I  would  be 
obliged  to  go  back  to  the  fort  and  get  my 
neck  stretched." 

The  conversation  then  turned  upon  the 


news,  which  Brant  was  anxious  to  learn, 
but  of  which  his  companion  could  tell  him 
little,  as  he  was  conversant  only  with  mat- 
ters in  the  immediate  neighborhood.  He 
could  assure  Brant,  however,  that  great  pre- 
parations were  making,  and  that  an  expe- 
dition would  soon  start  out  to  accomplish 
the  capture  of  Forts  Hemy  and  Donelson. 
This  was  joyful  news  to  our  hero,  who  was 
convinced  that  the  fall  of  these  strongholds 
would  insure  the  evacuation  of  Columbus, 
which  would  be  followed  by  the  Federal 
occupation  of  Jackson. 

Thus  they  journeyed  along,  at  a  moderate 
pace,  beguiling  the  way  with  conversation, 
Woodworth  relating,  in  his  quaint  and  pe- 
culiar manner,  some  incidents  of  his  scout- 
ing life  in  Missouri,  Kentucky,  and  Tennes- 
see, to  which  Brant  listened  with  interest, 
though  it  must  be  confessed  that  his  thoughts 
principally  tended  toward  Mabel  Mercer. 
Woodworth  occasionally  altered  his  direc- 
tion; taking  roads  apparently  unfrequented, 
which  were  often  nothing  more  than  bridle 
paths.  Thus  far  they  had  only  encountered 
two  persons ;  one  a  white  man,  who  was 
hauling  wood  out  of  the  forest  with  a  yoke 
of  oxen,  and  who  eyed  them  suspiciously 
and  bid  them  a  surly  good  morning ;  and 
the  other  a  negro,  whom  Woodworth  stop- 
ped, and  whom  he  asked  a  few  questions 
concerning  the  road,  mquiring  whether  he 
had  seen  any  Confederate  cavalry  scouting 
around  lately.  The  questions  concerning 
the  roads  were  answered  satisfactorily,  but 
on  the  other  point,  the  man  either  could  or 
would  give  no  information,  further  than  that 
they  were  scouting  the  country  most  of  the 
time. 

It  was  high  noon,  by  the  sun,  when  the 
party  reached  a  small  valley,  where  the 
road,  passing  through  a  forest  of  immense 
trees,  was  crossed  by  a  rivulet  which  was 
not  at  that  season  large  enough  to  be  called 
a  brook.  The  guide  looked  up  at  the  lumi- 
nary, which  was  faintly  visible  through  light 
clouds,  and  brought  his  horse  to  a  halt. 

"  Mr.  Brant,"  said  he,  "  do  ye  feel  as  if 
ye  could  eat  suthin'  ?" 

"  I  think  I  could,  if  I  had  it  to  eat.  You 
do  not  expect  to  find  any  thing  about  here, 
do  you  ?" 

"  Well,  ye  see,  I'm  sorter  like  an  army, 
and  when  I  move  inter  the  enemy's  kentry, 
I  ginerally  hev  my  supply  stations,  as  they 
call  'em,  some'res  about,  and  'pears  to  me  I've 
got  a  cache  around  here.  Yes,  thar's  the  gum 
tree,  broke  off  at  the  top.     Follow  me." 


THE   FOREST   LARDER. 


81 


Woodworth  turned  into  the  timber,  and 
followed  the  course  of  the  rivulet  for  a  few 
rods,  when  he  stopped  and  tied  his  horse  to 
a  tree,  his  example  being  imitated  by  his 
companions.  After  looking  around  a  mo- 
ment or  two,  he  went  to  a  flat  stone,  which 
he  lifted  up,  and  discovered  a  hollow 
scooped  out  beneath  it,  from  which  he  pro- 
duced some  cold  boiled  salt  pork  and  some 
crackers,  wrapped  up  in  a  cloth. 

"  I  hid  that  yere,"  said  he, "  when  I  come 
along  this  road  the  last  time,  fur  I  knowed 
it  would  stand  me  in  good  hand  ef  the  var- 
mints didn't  get  at  it.  But  nothin'  hes 
tetched  it,  so  fur's  I  see.  Help  yerself,  Mr. 
Brant." 

Cutting  off  a  fair  slice,  or  chunk,  of  the 
pork,  he  gave  it  to  Jake,  with  some  crack- 
ers, and  bade  him  keep  at  a  respectful  dis- 
tance, for  this  "  poor  white"  had  a  high  idea 
of  his  dignity  as  a  white  man,  and  thought 
it  beneath  him  to  eat  with  a  "  nigger." 

The  two  scouts  then  fell  to  in  good  ear- 
nest, with  knives,  fingers,  and  teeth,  and  soon 
exhausted  the  contents  of  this  forest  larder, 
after  which,  they  quenched  their  thirst  at 
the  rivulet,  mounted  their  horses,  and  pro- 
ceeded on  their  way,  feeling  much  refreshed 
by  their  rude  repast 


CHAPTER    XVL 

A  Race  and  its  ResvM. 

The  party  rode  on,  without  meeting  with 
any  molestation,  until  it  was  near  sunset. 
They  got  on  rapidly,  as  their  horses  were 
still  in  excellent  condition,  but  as  they  were 
now  in  the  turnpike,  Woodworth  proceeded 
more  carefully,  and  at  every  cross-road  took 
the  precaution  of  sending  Jake  ahead  to 
reconnoiter.  That  youth  understood  the 
duty  with  a  high  sense  of  the  responsibility 
resting  upon  him,  and  flourished  old  Cur- 
win's  pistol  in  a  manner  that  threatened 
danger  to  himself  or  his  companions. 
Woodworth  was  obliged  to  tell  him  to  put 
the  pistol  away,  or  he  would  take  it  from  him. 

The  road  led  again  through  a  thick  wood, 
at  the  opening  of  which  there  appeared  to 
be  a  lane  tending  to  the  right.  Jake  was 
sent  ahead,  as  usual,  to  reconnoiter.  The 
boy  stopped  his  horse  at  the  opening  of  the 
lane,  peered  down  it  a  moment,  and  then 
galloped  back,  with  eyes  wide  open  and 
mouth  agape. 


"  Massa  Bill,"  exclaimed  the  excited  dar- 
key. "  I  seed  'em.  Dar  they  is,  down  dat 
road,  on  bosses,  with  soger  coats,  and  guns." 

"  Federate  cavalry  scouts,  of  course,"  said 
old  Bill,  calmly.  How  fur  down  the  road, 
Jake  ?" 

"  Oh,  a  good  ways,  and  only  a-walkin' 
ther  hosses." 

"Let's  ride  along  slowly,  Mr.  Brant," 
said  the  old  man, "  so's  they  shan't  suspicion 
us,  and  then  if  they  hail  us,  we'll  hev  to  run 
fur  it.  'Twon't  be  long  afore  we  ken  git 
whar  we'll  be  tollabul  safe." 

The  three  then  rode  along  at  a  gentle 
trot,  Jake  keeping  well  to  the  left,  and 
Woodworth  forming  the  right  flank.  As 
they  reached  the  road,  old  Bill  cast  his  eye 
down  it,  and  plainly  saw  seven  or  eight 
cavalrymen,  in  the  Confederate  uniform,  at 
a  less  distance  than  Jake  had  given  him  to 
suppose.  They  spied  our  three  travelers  at 
the  same  instant,  and  spurred  their  horses. 

"  Who  goes  there  ?  Halt  1"  rung  out  on 
the  air. 

"  Ride  now,  Mr.  Brant,  fur  yer  life,"  said 
Woodworth,  as  he  urged  his  horse  forward. 

Brant  struck  his  spurs  into  his  horse,  and 
the  animal  started  forward  with  a  bound. 
Jake  was  already  quite  a  distance  ahead, 
and  Woodworth  followed  rapidly.  Several 
shots  were  fired  by  the  Confederates,  but 
none  of  them  took  effect  upon  the  party. 
As  they  had  used  their  horses  carefully,  and 
kept  them  in  fair  condition,  they  made  good 
time,  and  easily  run  away  /rom  the  jaded 
animals  of  their  pursuers,  who,  after  a  run 
of  a  mile,  gave  up  the  chase  in  despair 

Woodworth  and  Brant  pulled  up  their 
panting  animals  to  a  walk,  and  the  old  man 
ordered  Jake  to  moderate  his  speed  and  ride 
close  to  them. 

"Well  out  of  that  scrape,  Mr.  Brant," 
said  old  Bill.  "  Inside  of  an  hour  we'll  be 
as  safe  as  we  ken  be  in  this  yere  kentry." 

The  words  were  hardly  out  of  his  mouth, 
when  the  old  scout  espied  a  fresh  danger. 
As  they  emerged  from  the  wood,  a  wide 
cornfield  spread  out  to  the  right,  and  across 
it  was  coming  a  body  of  horsemen.  They 
were  evidently  Confederate  cavalry,  and 
were  spurring  their  horses  over  the  rough 
ground,  as  if  they  wished  to  head  off  the 
little  party. 

Again  it  was  ride  for  life,  and  the  two 
scouts  followed  Jake,  who  was  kicking  his 
heels  against  the  sides  of  his  saddleless  and 
bridleless  horse,  and  urging  him  furiously 
forward.     Their  horses  had  got  their  breath 


BOB  BRANT,  PATRIOT   AND   SPY. 


again,  and  the-  road  was  level  and  smooth; 
but  their  enemies  were  too  near  for  them  to 
escape  scatheless.  They  had  almost  passed 
the  cornfield,  and  were  about  to  enter  the 
wood  again,  when  the  Confederates  halted 
and  fired  a  volley.  Brant  saw  the  dust  fly 
from  Woodworth's  saddle,  and  at  the  same 
instant  felt  a  sharp  pang  in  his  right  arm, 
as  if  a  hot  iron  had  been  suddenly  run 
through  it.  But  he  only  urged  on  his  horse 
the  more,  and  as  the  Confederates  were 
obliged  to  stop  to  take  down  a  portion  of 
the  fence,  the  little  party  soon  distanced 
them.     Then  Bob  began  to  feel  faint. 

"  "Woodworth,"  said  he,  "*I  am  hit." 

"  Stop  yer  boss.  Hi  1  Jake,  halt  there ! 
Good  God !  Mr.  Brant,  yer  bleedin'  like  a 
bull.  What  a  quantity  of  blood  thar  is  in 
young  veins,  for  sartin'  I  Give  me  yer 
handkercher,  fur  that  blood  has  got  to  be 
stopped." 

Brant  handed  him  the  handkerchief,  and 
the  old  man,  without  dismounting,  quickly 
cut  the  sleeve  from  the  wounded  arm,  and 
pressed  his  thumbs  and  fingers  hurriedly 
and  roughly  around  the  bullet-hole. 

"It  hain't' touched  the  bone,  Mr.  Brant, 
and  ye'll  soon  git  over  it.  Let  me  jest  stop 
that  bleedin',  and  we  must  be  off." 

The  old  scout  then  tied  the  handkerchief 
around  the  arm  of  the  younger  one,  pulling 
it  so  tightly  that  the  pain  made  him  wince 
and  contract  his  brows;  but  he  strove  to 
suppress  any  indication  of  suffering,  as  he 
looked  over  his*  shoulder  and  saw  the  Con- 
federates coming  on  behind  them,  at  no 
great  distance. 

Again  they  spurred  their  horses,  and  again 
they  distanced  their  pursuers.  Thus  they 
rode  on  for  nearly  half  an  hour,  when  they 
came  in  sight  of  a  small  hut,  which  looked 
like  a  negro  cabin,  situated  in  a  clearing  at 
the  end  of  a  turn  in  the  road. 

"  Halt  here,  Mr.  Brant,"  feid  Woodworth. 
"  Git  off  yer  hoss,  and  run  into  that  cabin. 
Don't  stop  to  ask  questions.  It's  all  right. 
Here,  take  yer  pistils." 

The  old  man  then  handed  Brant  the  pis- 
tols from  his  own  holsters,  placing  them  in 
his  left  hand,  and  rode  off  without  another 
word  of  explanation,  leading  the  riderless 
horse.  Bob  did  not  stop  to  wonder  or  to 
think.  Death  or  capture  was  behind  him, 
and  in  the  cabin  was  his  only  chance  of 
safety ;  besides,  he  had  unlimited  confidence 
in  Woodworth,  and  the  old  scout  had  as- 
sured him  that  it  was  "  all  right."  So  he 
stepped  quietly  to  the  door  and  entered. 


"  Massa  Brant  1" 

"What,  old  Pharaoh?  Pharaoh,  I  am 
wounded,  and  am  pursued.  Can  you  hide 
me?" 

"  'Spect  I  ken,  Massa  Brant.  Thar  ain't 
no  time  for  talkin',  is  there?" 

"No,  old  man ;  they  will  be  here  in  a  few 
minutes." 

A  hasty  glance  showed  Brant  that  the 
little  cabin  had  but  one  room,  one  side  of 
which  was  almost  entirely  occupied  by  a 
broad  fire-place.  On  another  side  was  a 
rickety  bedstead,  covered  with  some  tattered 
quilts.  A  rough  table,  a  bench,  a  broken 
chair,  and  a  few  iron  pots  and  skillets,  ap- 
peared to  complete  the  regular  furniture  of 
the  habitation ;  but  at  this  time  the  room  was 
nearly  filled  with  a  fitter  of  household 
articles,  boxes,  bags  and  bedding,  which 
were  scattered  around  confusedly,  and  which 
evidently  did  not  belong  there.  In  a  corner, 
between  the  fire-place  and  the  bedstead,  was 
a  pile  of  old  clothes,  empty  bags,  sheets, 
blankets,  coverlets,  and  odds  and  ends, 
which  reached  nearly  up  to  the  roof.  Old 
Pharaoh  went  to  this  pile,  pulled  it  down, 
and  placed  two  empty  boxes  on  end  against 
the  sides  of  the  cabin. 

"  Git  in  thar,  Massa  Brant,"  said  he, 
"  'tween  dem  boxes,  and  I'll  kiver  ye  up 
keerfully,  so's  you  ken  git  yer  breff,  and 
you'll  lie  as  snug  as  a  coon  in  a  holler  log." 

Bob  accordingly  sat  down  in  the  corner, 
still  holding  his  pistols  in  his  left  hand,  and 
the  old  _  negro  piled  the  quilts  and  other 
articles  over  him  thickly  and  loosely,  but 
was  careful  to  leave  him  a  breathing  place 
by  the  side  of  one  of  the  boxes. 

He  was  not  a  moment  too  soon,  for  the 
hiding  place  was  hardly  finished  when  the 
sound  of  horses'  feet,  advancing  rapidly, 
were  heard,  and  they  stopped  in  front  of 
the  cabin.  Directly  the  door  was  opened 
so  violently  as  almost  to  upset  old  Pbaraoh, 
and  a  man,  in  the  uniform  of  a  Confederate 
officer,  entered,  followed  by  four  of  his  men, 
all  armed  with  rifles,  shot-guns,  pistols  and 
knives. 

"  Hallo,  uncle  !"  said  the  leader.  "  Have 
you  seen  two  men  and  a  little  nigger  riding 
by  here  lately  ?" 

"  Yes,  massa  officer.  'Pears  like  it  wasn't 
more'n  ten  minutes  ago.  Thar  was  an  old 
man  and  a  young  one,  and  a  little  nigger  on 
a  hoss  with  nothin'  but  a  halter.  They 
stopped  out  in  the  road  a  minute  or  two, 
'cause  one  of  em  had  his  arm  tied  up,  and 
'peared  to  feel   kinder  faint.     When   they 


BRANT   IN   A   TIGHT   PLACE. 


rode  off  again,  the  old  man  was  leadin'  the 
young  one's  hoss." 

"  Those  are  the  men  we  are  after.  Martin, 
does  the  road  look  as  if  the  horses  had 
stopped  there  ?" 

"Yes,  sir;  but  they  have  all  gone  on 
again,  as  there  are  tracks  of  three  horses 
beyond." 

"  Then  the  old  darkey  has  told  us  the 
truth." 

"  O  yes,  massa  officer ;  it's  Goramighty's 
troof  what  I  tole  you.  But  their  bosses 
'peared  to  be  mighty  tired,  and,  if  you've  got 
good  hosses,  you  mought  ketch  'em." 

"The  fact  is,  our  horses  are  worse  off 
than  theirs.  These  men,"  he  continued,  ad- 
dressing one  of  his  companions,  "  would  have 
been  worth  a  pretty  pile  to  us,  dead  cr  alive, 
if  we  could  have  caught  them,  for  I  think 
one  of  them  was  old  "Woodworth,  that  in- 
fernal Yankee  scout  we  have  heard  of,  and 
the  other  must  have  been  -that  young  chap 
who  got  out  of  Donelson  last  night,  a  de- 
serter or  a  spy — no  one  seemed  to  be  cer- 
tain which.  But  our  horses  are  all  knocked 
up,  and  there  is  no  use  in  trying  to  follow 
them  any  nearer  the  Yankee  lines.  Who 
do  you  belong  to,  uncle,  and  what  are  you 
doing  here  ?" 

"  Me,  massa?  I  b'longs  to  Major  Mercer, 
what's  been  livin'  down  to  Jackson;  but 
he's  gwine  to  move  up  yere  now.  His 
house  is  nigh  about  a  mile  from  yere,  and 
these  is  some  of  the  niggers'  things." 

"  Is  there  any  one  at  the  house  ?  Could 
we  get  any  thing  to  eat  there,  and  some 
fodder  for  our  horses  ?" 

"  Goramighty,  no,  massa  1  Thar  ain't  no- 
body up  to  the  house,  'cept  two  or  three 
niggers,  and  they  hain't  got  nuffin  for  thar- 
selves  to  eat,  scacely,  and  won't  have  nuftln, 
till  the  things  comes  up  from  Tennessee." 

"  Well,  we  must  go  hungry,  then,  for  I 
see  you  have  nothing  here.  Your  master  is 
a  loyal  man,  I  suppose  ?" 

"  Does  that  mean  a  'Federate  ?  Oh,  yis, 
he's  jest  one  o'  the  best  kind  o'  'Federates, 
and  alius  was." 

"  He  will  have  to  be  careful  how  he  acts 
around  here,  for  the  Yankees  are  getting 
into  this  part  of  the  country,  and  their 
scouts  are  growing  too  plenty  about  here. 
But  it  will  not  be  long  before  we  will  drive 
every  one  of  the  infernal  thieves  out  of  the 
State.  Come,  boys,  let  us  be  getting  off 
and  hunting  for  something  to  eat." 

"  Hold  on  a  bit,  Cap'n,"  said  one  of  the 
men.  "  The  nights  are  gettin'  cold,  and  a 
3  5 


blanket  is  a  good  thing  to  have.  Pve  got 
my  eye  on  one  over  thar  in  the  corner, 
which  I  reckon  I'll  confisticate." 

As  he  spoke,  he  moved  toward  the  pile 
which  covered  Brant. 

"None  o'  that,  now,  mister  soger!"  ex- 
claimed old  Pharaoh,  who  had  watched  the 
movement.  "  Them  blankets  ain't  none  o' 
your'n,  and  Massa  Charley  will  be  mighty 
mad  ef  they're  tetched,  'cause  he's  gwine  to 
jine  the  cavalry,  and  says  he  wants  all  he 
kin  git,  to  warm  his  own  men." 

The  man  did  not  heed  the  remonstrance, 
but  pulled  a  blanket  from  the  pile.  Pharaoh 
trembled  with  fear  lest  the  hiding-place  of 
Brant  would  be  discovered,  but  strove  to 
conceal  his  anxiety,  contenting  himself  with 
muttering  and  grumbling,  threatening  the 
soldier  with  the  wrath  of  "  Massa  Charley." 
It  happened  that  the  best  blanket  of  the 
pile,  that  which  the  man  coveted,  lay  loosely 
on  the  top,  and,  as  he  picked  it  off,  there 
was  nothing  discovered  beneath.  If  Brant 
knew  that  it  was  being  taken,  he  was  en- 
titled to  credit  for  great  steadiness  of  nerve, 
for  the  slightest  movement  would  have 
stirred  his  covering  and  induced  suspicion. 

"  You  ken  tell  your  Massa  Charley,"  said 
the  Confederate,  as  he  deliberately  rolled  up 
the  blanket,  "  that  he  ken  hev  this  back 
when  he  gits  his  men  into  the  service.  It 
mought  as  well  be  mustered  in  now  as 
any  other  time." 

The  officer  and  his  men  then  left  the 
house,  mounted  their  horses,  and  the  whole 
party  returned  by  the  road  over  which  they 
had  pursued  Brant  and  his  friend. 

"  Gorry  !"  ejaculated  old  Pharaoh, -as  he 
watched  their  receding  forms,  dimly  seen  in 
the  growing  dusk.  "  Ain't  I  mighty  glad 
they's  gone,  though  ?  They  give  this  old 
nigger  an  orful  scare.  Cuss  'em,  anybody's 
nigger's  a  white  man  alongside  o'  them. 
froat-cutters." 

He  watched  them  until  they  were  out  of 
sight,  and  then  called  to  Brant : 

"  Come  out,  now,  Massa  Brant.  They'* 
all  gone." 

Hearing  no  answer,  he  stepped  to  th» 
pile,  muttering : 

"  'Spect  I  done  forgot  he's  got  a  lame  arm,, 
and  can't  git  hisself  out." 

Hastily  tearing  down  the  pile  of  cotton 
and  woolen,  he  saw  Brant  sitting  as  if 
asleep,  with  his  head  dropped  upon  his 
breast.  The  pain  of  his  wound  and  the 
tightness  of  the  bandage,  combined  with 
the  lack  of  air,  had  caused  him  to  faint. 


ie  X 


34 


BOB    BRANT,    PATRIOT    AND    SPY. 


CHAPTER   XVIL 
In   Comfortable   Quarters. 

"  Oh,  Goraniighty !"  exclaimed  the  old 
negro,  "  he's  gone  dead.  No,  he  ain't  he's 
only  swounded  away.  I  jest  wish  Missy 
Mercer  was  here,  or  Aunt  Jule,  or  some- 
body." 

Fortunately,  Pharaoh  did  not  confine  him- 
self to  lamentations,  but  drew  the  young 
man  out  from  his  uncomfortable  place  of 
concealment,  and  set  him  up  on  some  blan- 
kets against  the  side  of  the  house.  Then 
he  ran  for  some  water,  which  he  speedily 
brought,  and  dashed  it  liberally  in  Brant's 
face.  As  this  remedy  was  not  effectual  at 
the  instant,  he  thrust  a  quantity  of  snuff  in 
the  nose  of  the  insensible  man,  when  his 
efforts  were  rewarded  by  a  slight  sneeze,  and 
Brant  opened  his  eyes,  slowly,  at  first,  and 
then  stared  wildly  about  the  little  room. 

"  Look  up,  Massa  Brant ;  don't  ye  be 
scar'd,  for  I's  old  Pharaoh,  and  yer  safe 
now.  Those  'Federate  froat-cutters  are  all 
done  gone." 

"My  arm — it  pains  me — it  feels  dead. 
Give  me  some  water." 

A  drink  revived  the  young  man,  and  then 
Pharaoh  took  the  wounded  arm  tenderly  in 
his  black  and  rough  paws,  and  one  or  two 
tears  dropped  upon  it. 

"  None  of  your  salt  water,  old  man,"  said 
Bob,  who  had  now  fully  recovered  his  senses. 
"Light  a  candle,  or  something,  and  come 
and  untie  this  bandage." 

Pharaoh  hastened  to  strike  a  light,  and 
then'  carefully  untied  the  bandage,  above 
which  the  arm  was  badly  swollen.  It  was 
only  a  flesh  wound,  but  the  ball  had  cut  a 
large  vein,  and  the  loss  of  blood  had  been 
considerable.  The  old  negro  muttered  plain- 
tively as  he  washed  the  wound. 

"  It's  gone  right  through  this  poor  arm, 
but  it  hain't  touched  no  bone,  Massa  Brant, 
and  it's  a  nice  clean  hole,  and  that's  a  good 
thing.  Oh,  it  hurts  this  ole  nigger  mighty 
bad,  to  think  how  many  good  men  a-fightin' 
fur  freedom  will  hev  wuss  holes'n  this  bored 
through  'em.  But  them  what  does  it,  Gor- 
amighty  knows  they'll  hev  to  pay  sharp  for 
what  tVey're  a-doin  agin  his  laws.  Now, 
I've  got  some  sarve,  real  nice  sarve,  that 
ole  Aunt  Jule  made  herself,  and  it's  jest 
the  'mazinest  best  thing  that  ever  was,  fur 
cuts  and  burns  and  bruises ;  and  I'll  jest  put 
some  of  that  on  yer  arm." 

"  Be  quick  about  it,  then,  and  talk  less." 


Bob  Brant  was  evidently  peevish  and  im- 
patient, and  old  Pharaoh,  thus  admonished, 
hastened  to  find  his  salve,  and  soon  bound 
up  the  wound  comfortably,  though  not  after 
the  manner  of  regular  surgeons.  He  then 
made  a  sling  of  Brant's  handkerchief,  with 
which  he  tied  up  the  arm  in  an  easy  position, 
and  stepped  back  to  survey  his  work. 

"  There,  Massa  Brant,  jest  you  sit  there 
quiet  like,  while  I  run  up  to  the  house  and 
tell  Miss  Mabel,  and  fetch  somethin'  you  ken 
eat." 

"  Tell  who  ?" 

"  Tell  Miss  Mabel — Massa  Mercer's  Mabel, 
you  know.  Didn't  you  hear  me  tell  them 
'Federates  that  Major  Mercer  was  a-movin' 
up  yere  ?" 

"  No  ;  I  heard  nothing  you  said,  after  the 
first  few  words.  But  if  Mabel  Mercer  is 
near  here,  hurry  on,  old  man,  for  God's 
sake.  You  must  not  ask  her  to  come  here 
to-night.  But  perhaps  Mr.  Charles  can 
come." 

"  Oh  no  ;  Massa  Charley  ain't  here  now, 
Thar's  nobody  up  to  the  house  'ceptin'  Mis3 
Mabel  and  Missy  Mercer,  and  some  o'  de 
cullud  folks.  I  don't  'spect  either  of  'em 
ken  come  to-night,  as  they's  all  tumbled  up. 
Now  jest  you  keep  still,  and  I'll  be  back 
mighty  quick." 

As  the  old  man  hurried  off,  Bob  Brant 
reflected  upon  his  condition,  and  saw  no 
reason  to  complain.  He  had  a  wounded 
arm,  but  that  was  nothing  to  a  strong  and 
healthy  young  man.  He  had  got  well  out 
of  his  scrape  at  Curwin's  tavern ;  he  had 
safely  escaped  from  the  rebel  stronghold  on 
the  Tennessee ;  he  had  been  rescued,  at  the 
nick  of  time,  from  the  clutches  of  Curwin ; 
his  papers  were  safe  in  the  possession  of 
Woodworth,  and  were  on  their  way  to  a 
place  where  their  value  woulcr*  be  appreci- 
ated ;  and,  above  all,  here  he  was,  almost 
within  reach  of  Mabel  Mercer.  Under  the 
circumstances,  the  wounded  arm  was  a  posi- 
tive blessing,  and  he  inwardly  thanked  the 
Confederate  who  had  fired  the  bullet.  He 
soon  came  to  the  conclusion  that  the  wound 
would  get  well  slowly;  that  it  was  more 
severe  than  he  had  thought,  and  he  was 
sure  that  it  would  require  veiy  careful 
nursing.  The  truth  is,  that  the  young  man 
was  too  much  weakened  by  want  of  sleep 
and  food,  by  his  long  ride,  and  by  pain  and 
loss  of  blood,  to  form  any  more  high-minded, 
patriotic  and  severe  resolutions,  or  even  to 
remember  those  which  he  had  previously 
formed.      He   felt   an   agreeable   lassitude, 


HAPPY    STATE   OP   BRANT'S   AFFAIRS. 


mingled  with  pleasant  anticipation,  and  was 
ready  to  accept,  thankfully,  any  blessings 
that  Providence  might  have  in  store  for  him, 
without  giving  himself  unnecessary  trouble 
about  labor  and  duty.  He  then  begun  to 
tbink  of  the  possibility  of  Mabel  Mercer 
making  her  appearance  there,  in  that  cabin, 
perhaps  that  night,  and  then — alas  for  his 
character  as  a  patriot  and  a  hero  ! — he  actu- 
ally thought  of  the  sorry  figure  he  would 
present  to  her,  with  his  cut  coat-sleeve,  his 
disordered  and  bloody  clothes,  his  tangled 
hair,  and  his  general  air  of  slouchiness. 
He  rose  with  difficulty,  endeavored  to  smooth 
his  rough  hair  and  arrange  his  attire  so  as 
to  make  himself  partially  presentable,  and 
then  tottered  to  the  broken  chair  which  he 
had  placed  in  a  corner,  and  braced  himself 
up,  vainly  striving  to  appear  easy  and  non- 
chalant. 

He  had  hardly  seated  himself,  when  the 
door  opened,  and  in  stepped  Mabel  Mercer 
herself,  followed  by  Pharaoh  and  a  negro 
woman,  both  loaded  down  with  sheets,  pil- 
lows, eatables  and  other  articles.  Brant  at- 
tempted to  rise,  but  his  previous  efforts  had 
exhausted  him,  and  he  sunk  back  upon  the 
chair. 

"  Miss  Mercer,  this  is  too  much  honor." 

"  No  honor  at  all,  if  you  please  ;  and  if 
it  was,  no  honor  could  be  too  great  for  a 
brave  man  who  has  been  wounded  in  the 
cause  of  his  country.  Now,  you  are  not  to 
eay  another  word,  but  just  obey  Aunt  Jule 
and  me,  and  wait  as  patiently  as  possible 
until  we  make  you  as  comfortable  as  we 
can.  Pharaoh,  put  down  those  things,  and 
don't  stand  there  staring.  Then  start  a  fire, 
and  try  to  make  this  place  look  a  little 
decent." 

Brant's  eyes  followed  her  graceful  form 
wonderingly  and  wistfully,  as  she  moved 
lightly  and  airily  around  the  small  room. 
In  a  very  short  time,  with  the  assistance  of 
the  old  negress,  who  seemed  to  know  just 
what  to  do,  and  just  how  to  do  it,  she  had 
made  a  great  change  in  the  cabin,  and  it 
really  looked  comfortable  and  cheerful.  A 
bright  fire  blazed  upon  the  hearth,  over 
which  a  kettle  was  soon  singing  merrily,  and 
the  fair  Mabel  was  on  her  knees  before  the 
fire,  toasting  thin  slices  of  bread,  with  a 
fork  so  short  that  Bob  was  unhappy  for  fear 
that  her  delicate  hands  would  be  scorched. 
A  good  couch  of  blankets  was  made  upon 
the  rickety  bedstead,  on  which  pillows  were 
placed  and  sheets  were  spread,  and  Brant, 
with  the  assistance  of  old  Pharaoh  and  the 


negress,  was  laid  upon  it  unresistingly.  And 
then  he  was  propped  up  with  pillows  and 
quilts,  so  that  he  could  see  the  fire  and  the 
busy  Mabel,  and  the  bright  face  of  Pharaoh ; 
and  then  Aunt  Jule,  softly  sootbing  the 
wounded  arm,  and  calling  him  "  Honey," 
washed  it  in  nice,  warm  water,  abused  Pha- 
raoh for  his  clumsiness,  and  called  for  more 
of  her  wonderful  "  sarve  ;"  and  then  Mabel, 
with  her  face  all  ablaze,  had  to  leave  her 
toast-making  to  find  some  linen  and  lint,  and 
had  to  stop  as  she  brought  it,  to  take  a  shy 
peep  at  the  fair,  white  arm,  and  to  tell  Aunt 
Jule  to  be  very  careful  not  to  hurt  it — a 
suggestion  which  that  female  treated  quite 
scornfully — and,  in  short,  Bob  Brant  was  in 
elysium,  and  thought  that  it  was  a  very  pleas- 
ant thing  to  be  woimded. 

"Laws  a-massy,  Miss  Mabel,"  said  Aunt 
Jule,  as  she  re-slung  Brant's  arm  in  a  clean 
and  soft  handkerchief,  and  laid  it  across  his 
breast,  "  you've  been  and  made  toast  enough 
for  a  reg'ment.  Jest  you  fix  that  tea  now, 
while  I  look  arter  the  jelly.  I  don't  'low 
nobody  to  touch  my  jellys,  'cept  sickness  or 
death." 

Mabel  started  up,  as  if  aroused  from  a 
reverie,  bustled  about,  drew  the  tea  in  a 
dainty  little  tea-pot,  poured  it  out  in  a 
shining  cup,  and  placed  it  upon  a  waiter 
before  our  hero,  together  with  the  hot  but- 
tered toast,  and  a  plentiful  supply  of  Aunt 
Jule's  jelly,  which  was  only  less  wonderful 
than  her  "  sarve."  Then  she  drew  the  brok- 
en chair  to  the  bedside,  and  actually  insisted 
upon  feeding  that  rough  fellow  with  her  own 
fair  hands.  Our  hero  was  quite  overcome, 
and  a  few  drops  of  moisture  which  stole 
from  his  eyes  proved  his  lack  of  the  proper 
heroic  qualities.  But  he  had  no  mother, 
and  all  this  was  new  to  him. 

"  Does  your  arm  pain  you  so  much  ?" 
"  Oh,  no,  scarcely  any,  thanks  to  you  and 
Aunt   Jule.      But   it   is   so   sweet   to    be 
wounded,  when  I  can  be  here,  and   with 
you !" 

He  felt  that  there  was  a  wound  in  his 
heart,  which  could  not  be  healed  so  easily  as 
that  in  his  arm. 

Mabel  concealed  her  blushes  by  pouring 
out  some  more  tea. 

Brant  drank  his  tea  and  munched  his 
toast  slowly,  for  he  wished  to  prolong  his 
pleasure.  Mabel  was  anxious  to  know  his 
adventures  after  he  parted  with  her  brother, 
for  Charley  had  given  her  a  vivid  descrip- 
tion of  the  scene  at  Curwin's  tavern,  and  of 
his  triumphant  entry  into  the  fort.     As  Bob 


BOB   BRANT,   PATRIOT   AND    SPY. 


related  his  several  escapes,  she  listened 
eagerly,  with  little  ladylike  ejaculations  of 
wonder,  pity,  and  fear.  It  was  somewhat 
like  the  old  story  of  Othello  and  Desde- 
mona. 

Brant  then  inquired  about  Major  Mercer 
and  the  rest  of  his  family,  and  was  informed 
that  they  were  engaged  in  the  unpleasant 
labor  of  moving,  but  would  soon  be  settled 
down  again. 

"  You  can  not  imagine,"  said  Mabel, 
"  what  a  change  has  come  over  father.  He 
is  nothing  like  he  used  to  be.  He  had  a 
great  deal  of  trouble  with  the  authorities  at 
Jackson,  when  they  learned  that  he  intended 
to  leave,  and  they  run  off  two  or  three  of 
his  best  negroes.  He  expects  to  be  obliged 
to  leave  behind  much  of  what  belongs  to 
him  in  Jackson,  but  his  money  is  safe  in 
Louisville,  and  that  is  a  great  comfort  to 
him.  The  house  we  are  to  live  in  here  is 
a  small  house,  compared  with  that  at  Jack- 
son, and  it  is  not  a  nice  one,  but  we  will  be 
much  happier  than  among  the  rebel  officers 
and  soldiers,  and  mamma  is  very  much 
pleased.  The  house  belongs  to  ma's  brother 
William,  who's  a  good  Union  man  and 
loves  us  all  dearly.  Father  is  a  good  Union 
man,  too,  at  last,  and  abuses  the  secession- 
ists like  a  man,  when  he  is  away  from  Jack- 
son.    And  that's  all,  I  believe." 

"  Come  now,  Miss  Mabel,"  broke  in  Aunt 
Jule.  "  Jest  stop  that  talkin',  and  let  the 
young  gen'l'man  alone,  and  come  right  home 
'long  with  me ;  fur  Miss  Car'line  '11  be  on- 
easy." 

"  "Wait  a  moment,  Jake,  Pharaoh  says  he 
thinks  those  rebels  will  not  be  back  here  to- 
night, Mr.  Brant,  and  I  am  sure  of  it ;  so 
you  must  sleep  soundly  and  feel  fresh  in  the 
morning.  I  will  be  here  early,  and  Charley 
will  be  home  to-morrow,  and  then  we  will 
take  you  up  to  the  house.  Good  night,  and 
pleasant  dreams  to  you  I" 

Mabel  Mercer  tripped  away,  carrying  Bob 
Brant's  sunshine  with  her ;  but  she  left  him 
a  warmth  about  the  heart  that  was  very 
pleasant  to  him.  He  prepared  himself  to 
enjoy  a  good  night's  rest.  Bidding  Pharaoh 
to  bring  him  his  pistols,  he  examined  them, 
and  laid  one  within  reach  of  his  well  arm, 
giving  the  other  to  the  old  negro.  Pharaoh 
rolled  himself  up  in  a  blanket,  and  laid 
down  in  front  of  the  door.  Even  the 
thought  of  Mabel  Mercer  could  not  keep 
Brant  awake,  and  he  soon  dropped  into  a 
doze. 

Pharaoh  had  hardly  commenced  to  snore, 


when  his  slumber  was  interrupted  by  a  gen- 
tle tapping  at  the  door  of  the  cabin. 

"  "Who's  thar  ?"  said  the  old  negro,  softly, 
as  he  sat  up  in  his  blanket. 

"  It's  me — it's  Jake." 

"  Who's  Jake  ?" 

"  Is  Massa  Brant  in  thar  ?  He  knows 
me." 

"  What  is  it,  Pharaoh  ?"  asked  Bob,  half 
awakened. 

"Some  nigger  boy,  I  'spect  —  says  his 
name's  Jake,  and  you  knows  him." 

"  Let  him  in.  What  do  you  want  here, 
you  ebony  imp  ?  What  is  the  matter  now?" 

"  Massa  Bill  tole  me  to  come  back  yere, 
sah.  He  tole  me  I  b'longs  to  you  now,  an' 
I  must  see  how  you's  gittin'  on." 

"  Very  well.  I  can  not  say  that  I  am 
obliged  to  him,  as  I  fear  you  will  prove 
rather  troublesome  property.  Are  you 
hungry  ?" 

"  No,  sah." 

"  Pharaoh,  give  him  a  blanket,  and  let 
him  curl  up  somewhere.  Oo  to  sleep,  imp, 
and  dream  of  the  promised  land." 

The  "  imp"  showed  his  ivories  until,  as 
some  old  poet  says,  they  almost  "  made  a 
sunshine  in  a  shady  place,"  and  dropped  in 
a  corner.  Pharaoh  grumbled  a  little,  and 
snored  again.  Brant  was  soon  immersed 
in  dreams,  in  which  Mabel  Mercer  was 
strangely  mixed  up  with  prisons  and  grin- 
ning Africans. 


CHAPTER    XV  HI. 

Major  Mercer's  Policy. 

The  first  thing  the  boy  Jake  did,  upon 
awakening  in  the  morning,  was  to  ask  for 
some  blacking  and  a  brush,  with  which  to 
polish  the  boots  of  his  new  master;  the 
first  thing  old  Pharaoh  did,  was  to  scold  the 
said  boy  Jake  for  disturbing  the  slumbers 
of  the  said  master ;  and  the  first  thing  Bob 
Brant  did,  was  to  call  for  hot  water  and 
soap  and  a  towel,  that  he  might  clean  the 
outward  man.  Those  necessaries  were  not 
to  be  had  in  a  moment,  however,  and  when 
our  hero  had  succeeded  in  working  himself 
up  to  an  unpleasant  condition  of  peevish- 
ness, he  was  astonished  by  the  entrance  of 
Cbarley  Mercer,  who  brought  sunshine  with 
him,  and  drove  the  clouds  from  the  faces  of 
all  three. 

"  What  in  creation  is  the  matter  with  you 
all  ?"  exclaimed  the  hearty  young  fellow,  as 


A   FAMILY    TALK. 


37 


he  gazed  upon  their  grim  faces.  "  Why, 
Brant,  you  look  like  a  thunder  cloud,  and 
Pharaoh  is  solemn  as  an  owl,  and  who  is 
this  young  darkey  ?" 

"  "We  didn't  'spect  you  so  soon,  Massa 
Charley,"  said  old  Pharaoh.  "  As  fur  that 
young  nigger,  I  dunno  whar  he  cum  from, 
but  I  don't  b'lieve  thar's  much  good  in  him, 
nohow.  He's  jest  been  botherin'  the  life 
out  o'  me,  for  a  boot  brush  and  some  black- 
in',  to  do  Massa  Brant's  boots,  jest's  ef  he 
knowed  how,  when  his  olders  an'  his  bet- 
ters is  here,  too." 

"  Well,  never  mind  the  boy.  Let  me  see 
you  look  a  little  more  cheerful.  Here,  Mr. 
Brant,  I  have  brought  you  some  clothes  to 
wear,  and  you  must  hurry  and  put  on  some- 
thing clean  and  nice,  as  sister  Mabel  will  be 
here  shortly." 

This  announcement  brought  Bob  to  his 
feet  instantly,  and  with  the  assistance  of 
Charley  Mercer  and  old  Pharaoh,  he  was 
soon  made  clean  and  presentable.  But  the 
change  in  his  personal  appearance  was  not 
made  any  too  soon,  for  Mabel  directly  en- 
tered, bright  and  cheery  as  ever,  and  then 
there  was  a  happy  party  in  the  little  cabin. 
The  boy  Jake  obtained  the  privilege  of 
blacking  Bob's  boots  all  he  chose,  and  po- 
lished them  until  they  were  even  blacker 
and  more  shining  than  his  own  ebony  face. 

Mabel  anxiously  inquired  of  Bob  Brant 
whether  he  thought  he  could  bear  the  jour- 
ney to  the  house,  and  whether  he  could 
possibly  walk  half  a  mile ;  and  that  young 
hypocrite  replied  that  he  thought  he  could, 
if  he  had  a  stick  or  something  to  lean  on ; 
when  the  young  lady  offered  her  arm,  which 
he  instantly  accepted.  And  as  they  marched 
to  Major  Mercer's  new  residence,  which  was 
a  small  one  story  farm-house,  but  with  com- 
fortable negro  quarters.  Pharaoh  wished 
the  boy  Jake  to  remain  with  him,  as  he 
thought  the  young  African  needed  his  per- 
sonal supervision;  but  the  boy  said  that 
Massa  Bill  had  told  him  to  stick  to  Massa 
Brant,  and  he  meant  to  do  it ;  so,  at  the 
solicitation  of  our  hero,  he  was  allowed  to 
accompany  them,  and  was  thereafter  installed 
as  bis  special  body  servant. 

They  found  Mrs.  Mercer  at  the  house, 
who  welcomed  Brant  very  kindly,  showed 
him  the  little  room  which  she  had  fitted  up 
for  him,  and  soon  made  him  perfectly  at 
home.  Major  Mercer  arrived  after  a  few 
days,  bringing  up  the  rear,  with  all  of  his 
property  that  he  had  been  permitted  to  bring 
away  from  Jackson,  from  which  place  he 


had  been  glad  to  escape  with  his  life  and 
liberty. 

Those  were  happy  days  that  Bob  Brant 
passed  at  the  little  farm-house.  He  had 
never  seen  any  half  as  happy  before,  and 
had  never  thought  that  life  could  have  so 
many  charms  for  him.  He  did  not  pass  his 
time  in  "  making  love,"  for  he  found  it  ready- 
made  to  his  hand,  but  in  loving  and  being 
loved,  and  in  wondering  how  long  such 
happiness  could  last.  His  arm  speedily 
healed,  so  that  he  could  easily  have  dis- 
pensed with  his  sling ;  but  he  did  not  do  so, 
as  it  was  so  sweet  to  be  wounded  there, 
and  so  pleasant  to  be  nursed  by  Mrs.  Mer- 
cer—  and  Mabel.  The  young  man  had 
changed  under  the  enervating  influence  of 
this  first  affection.  He  was  no  longer  anx- 
ious to  rush  on  and  sacrifice  his  life  for  his 
country,  but  absolutely  dreaded  the  time 
when,  what  he  still  considered  his  duty, 
should  again  call  him  into  active  service. 
The  change  might  be  pitiable,  but  the  hap- 
piness was  enviable. 

As  for  Major  Mercer,  he  sat  down  quietly, 
and  waited  for  the  storm  of  war  to  blow 
over  him.  He  now  hated  secession  and  all 
secessionists,  but  much  of  his  natural  timid- 
ity remained,  and  he  was  by  no  means  an 
outspoken  partisan.  He  had  lost  much,  and 
feared  that  he  might  lose  much  more ;  but 
he  was  now  quite  determined  to  lose  it ;  if 
it  must  be  lost,  on  the  side  of  the  Union. 
Thus  far  he  was  willing  to  go,  no  further. 
He  was  a  Union  man,  but  conservative — of 
himself  and  his  property. 

"  Wife,"  he  said,  one  evening,  as  the 
family,  including  Brant,  were  collected  to- 
gether, "  this  is  pleasant,  far  more  so  than 
at  Jackson,  and  we  have  much  to  be  thank- 
ful for." 

"  It  is  liberty,  husband ;  it  is  freedom 
from  the  scoundrels,  swindlers,  and  traitors 
who  are  striving  to  destroy  the  Union  and 
the  peace  of  every  fireside  in  it.  But  we 
will  be  much  happier  when  we  can  see  the 
flag  of  the  Union  flying  over  our  house. 
For  my  part,  I  would  like  to  raise  it  this 
very  day." 

"  Mother  and  I  are  making  one,"  whis- 
pered Mabel  to  Bob,  and  she  was  rewarded 
for  the  information  by  a  pressure  of  the 
hand. 

"  It  may  be  as  you  say,"  answered  Major 
Mercer  ;  "  but  it  is  not  well  to  compromise 
ourselves  too  far  at  present.  The  truth 
should  not  be  told  at,  all  times.  As  for  a 
flag,  don't  talk  of  raising  one  yet.     It  is  a 


BOB   BRANT,   PATRIOT    AND    SPY. 


great  deal  to  be  thankful  for,  that  we  are 
unmolested  here,  and  are  likely  to  be  so." 

"  Don't  be  too  sure  of  that,  father,"  broke 
in  Charley  Mercer.  The  rebel  guerillas 
have  lately  been  getting  thicker  in  this  part 
of  the  country,  and  parties  of  them  have 
been  within  a  few  miles  of  our  house.  If 
you  will  give  me  your  permission,  I  will 
conceal  all  the  arms  we  happen  to  have,  so 
that  they  can  not  be  found  if  the  guerillas 
should  make  us  a  visit." 

"  You  see,  wife,"  said  the  Major, "  Charles 
coincides  with  me.  I  told  you  that  we 
must  be  careful.  By  all  means,  Charles, 
conceal  the  arms,  as  we  would  be  unable  to 
use  them  in  our  defense." 

"  I  can  fight,  father,"  said  Charley  Mercer. 

"  So  can  I,"  said  Brant. 

"  So  can  I,"  said  Mabel,  with  a  right  royal 
flash  of  the  eye. 

"  So  can  even  old  Pharaoh,"  said  Mrs. 
Mercer,  quietly  but  confidently. 

"  What,  wife !"  exclaimed  the  Major, 
starting  up  with  his  countenance  flushed 
with  anger  and  astonishment.  "  Would 
you  ask  our  niggers  to  fight  for  us  ?  The 
cowards  would  run  at  the  first  flash  of  a 
musket.  Besides,  what  defense  have  we, 
but  our  own  arms  ?" 

"  If  you  please,  father,"  said  Charley,  "  I, 
Major-General  Charles  Mercer,  with  the  as- 
sistance of  Lieutenant-Colonel  Brant,  chief 
of  artillery,  have  fortified  the  smoke-house, 
so  that  it  will  stand  a  siege  against  any 
thing  but  artillery." 

"  Charles  1  Charles !  this  is  no  child's 
play.  You  talk  boyishly  and  recklessly. 
Let  me  hear  no  more  of  such  nonsense. 
But  you  had  better  conceal  the  arms,  as 
you  said.  I  have  no  fear  that  the  guerillas 
will  offer  any  serious  molestation.  But 
their  presence  might  probably  be  uncom- 
fortable to  our  friend,  Mr.  Brant,  and  per- 
haps it  would  be  better  for  him  to  find  some 
temporary  place  of  concealment." 

"  I  will  manage  that,  father." 

Thereafter,  Charley  Mercer  and  old  Pha- 
raoh constituted  themselves  scouts  for  that 
outpost,  as  they  called  the  house  and  its 
appurtenances,  and  scoured  the  adjoining 
country  thoroughly,  watching  for  indica- 
tions of  guerillas  in  the  neighborhood.  The 
boy  Jake  was  on  the  scout  also,  and  his 
habits  and  instinct  enabled  him  to  gain  in- 
telligence with  more  ease  and  certainty  than 
his  older  and  more  prudent  companions. 
One  morning  early,  as  Charley  Mercer  and 
Pharaoh  were  just   issuing  out,  they  met 


the  boy  running  toward  them,  with  eyes 
wide  open  and  mouth  agape,  and  panting 
with  the  exertions  he  had  made. 

"  Massa  Charles,  dey's  comin' !  dey's 
comin' !  I  seed  'em  myself — a  whole 
squadroon  o'  dem  rebel  fellers,  on  ther 
hosses,  an'  lookin'  jest  like  I  used  to  see 
'em  around  ole  Massa  Curwin's." 

"  Pharaoh,"  said  Charles,  "  run  to  the 
house  and  tell  Mr.  Brant  to  get  ready  to 
hide." 

"  Now  Massa  Charley,  don't  you  go  to 
b'lieve  a  word  that  scrumptious  little  nigger 
says.  He's  seen  a  stump,  an'  it's  dun  scar'd 
him  outer  his  wits,  ef  he  ever  had  any.  T 
ken  see  in  his  eye  he's  a  lyin'  at  this 
minute.  That  stock  o'  niggers  is  alius 
skeary,  an'  apt  to  be  terrible  onsartin." 

"  Run  to  the  house,  Pharaoh,  and  do  as  I 
told  you." 

The  old  negro  went  off  grumbling,  and 
young  Mercer  questioned  the  boy,  and  soon 
saw  reason  to  believe  that  his  tale  was  true, 
although  it  might  be  somewhat  exaggerated. 
He  accordingly  hastened  to  the  house,  and 
conveyed  Brant  to  the  place  of  concealment 
which  had  been  prepared  for  him,  in  one 
of  the  negro  quarters,  and  bade  him  lie 
quiet  while  he  went  back  to  the  house  and 
reconnoitered.  The  boy  Jake  showed  more 
prudence  than  Pharaoh  would  have  been 
willing  to  give  him  credit  for,  by  also  going 
into  hiding. 

Brant  waited  nearly  two  hours  for  his 
friend,  seeing  nothing  and  hearing  nothing, 
and  his  anxiety  made  the  time  seem  longer, 
and  made  his  confinement  irksome  to  him. 
At  last,  when  Charley  Mercer  came,  his 
eyes  sparkled  with  fire,  and  his  sides  shook 
with  laughter. 

"  Brant,  my  boy,  it's  the  best  thing !  The 
best  thing  you  ever  saw !  The  best  thing 
of  the  season  or  any  other  season !  The 
best  thing  that  could  possibly  have  hap- 
pened, for  all  of  us,  as  eure  as  I  am  a  sin- 
ner 1" 

"What's  the  matter?  Nobody  hurt,  I 
judge  from  your  countenance." 

"  Yes,  somebody  hurt,  awfully  hurt,  in 
feelings,  and  that  is  no  less  a  man  than  my 
father,  Major  Mercer.  You  know  how 
father  has  always  been,  how  off-and-onish, 
how  timid  and  non-committal.  H  he  had 
not  been  my  father,  I  could  not  have  re- 
spected him,  and  hardly  did,  at  that.  Well, 
the  rebels  did  not  respect  his  neutrality, 
either — not  a  bit.  They  took  what  they 
chose,  and  stormed  about  the  house  as  they 


MAKING   AN  UNQUALIFIED   UNIONIST. 


pleased ;  but  that  was  nothing — they  actually 
kicked  him — kicked  Major  Mercer,  the  rep- 
resentative of  one  of  the  best  familes  in  West 
Tennessee  and  Kentucky — kicked  him,  and 
slapped  his  face,  first  on  the  Union  side,  and 
then  on  the  rebel  side.  Oh,  how  it  roused 
him !  He  cursed  them,  and  told  them  that 
they  would  suffer  for  that  indignity;  but 
they  laughed  at  him  and  rode  away.  Isn't 
it  glorious  ?" 

"  Charley,  I  really  do  not  see  how  you 
can  laugh  when  your  father  has  been  insulted 
and  abused." 

"  It  does  seem  hard,  but  I  am  glad  of  it, 
for  he  is  a  thorough  Union  man  now,  with- 
out any  ife  or  ands.  He  will  never  go  back, 
either,  but  will  fight  them  now  to  the  death, 
I  will  bet  my  life.  He  is  raging  around  the 
house  in  a  terrible  fury.  Let  us  go  up  and 
see  him.  He  does  not  know  that  I  witnessed 
the  kicking  and  slapping." 

"  I  hope  they  did  not  offer  to  insult 
Mabel." 

"  Not  at  all.  She  was  in  her  room,  and 
they  merely  looked  in  to  see  that  no  one 
else  was  there,  and  left  her  in  peace.  Mother 
aimply  looked  on  and  said  nothing,  and  was 
not  molested.  Father's  misfortune  happened 
in  front  of  the  house,  where  he  was  endea- 
voring to  '  explain  his  position'  to  the  rebels. 
They  were  not  real  guerillas." 

The  friends  then  walked  into  the  house. 


CHAPTER    XIX. 
The  Impromptu  Fbrtress. 

When  Brant  and  young  Mercer  entered 
(he  house,  they  found  Major  Mercer  in  the 
parlor  with  his  wife  and  Mabel.  Mrs.  Mer- 
cer looked  indignant,  but  calm  and  composed. 
Mabel's  face  was  flushed,  and  her  eyes  were 
flashing.  The  Major  himself  was  walking, 
excitedly,  up  and  down  the  room,  speaking 
incoherently,  and,  it  must  be  confessed,  with 
occasional  profanity. 

Charley  asked,  quite  coolly : 

"  What  is  the  matter,  father  ?" 

"  Matter  1  Matter  enough,  and  too  much. 
Would  you  believe  it,  my  son,  those  rebel 
rascals  have  actually  dared — have  had  the 
audacity  and  the  insolence — to  kick  me, 
yes,  me,  the  representative  of  the  old  Mercer 
stock — a  stock  that  has  never  been  dishon- 
ored, since  Kentucky  was  a  State.  Yes, 
they  kicked  me,  Charles,  and  slapped  me  in 


the  face.  Curse  them,  if  I  had  had  a  pistol, 
or  a  knife,  they  would  have  learned  what  it 
is  to  insult  Henry  Mercer." 

"  I  hope  you  had  not  been  so  rash  as  to 
tell  them  you  were  a  Unionist." 

"  No ;  I  wish  I  had,  and  then  I  might 
have  excused  them.  I  was  endeavoring  to 
explain  to  them  the  delicate  position  in 
which  I  found  myself,  telling  them  that  my 
interests  lay  with  the  South,  but  I  was  situ- 
ated near  the  North,  and  much  of  my  pro- 
perty was  there,  and  I  thought  it  was  only 
fair  that  I  should  be  allowed  to  preserve  my 
neutrality,  and  I  only  asked  to  be  let  alone 
in  peace.  Then  their  leader  spoke  up : 
'  Oh,  bah  !'  said  he,  '  you  are  neither  fish  nor 
flesh,  but  a  big  bloated  bullfrog.  You  are 
with  us  to  save  your  niggers,  and  with  the 
Lincolnites  to  keep  your  land.'    And  then — " 

"  Did  you  believe  him,  father  ?" 

"  Charles  ?" 

"  Did  you  believe  him,  father  ?" 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?" 

"  Did  you  believe  the  man  when  he  said 
that  ?" 

The  Major  cooled  down  immediately,  and, 
for  a  few  moments,  was  lost  in  thought. 

"  My  son,"  said  he,  "  in  the  excitement  of 
the  moment  I  suppose  I  thought  nothing 
about  believing  or  disbelieving ;  but  when  I 
reflect  upon  it,  I  incline  to  confess  that  he 
spoke  the  truth,  or  near  it — nearer  than  I 
did,  certainly.  But  I  never  will  be  guilty 
of  making  such  an  explanation  to  any  of 
them  again.  I  will  tell  them  plainly  that  I 
am — as  from  this  moment  I  will  be — a 
Union  man,  sound  and  true ;  and  then  if 
they  take  me,  I  will  do  my  best  that  they 
shall  not  take  me  alive." 

"  Father,  I  never  honored  you  as  much  as 
I  do  at  this  moment." 

"  Caroline,"  continued  the  Major,  taking 
his  wife  by  both  her  hands,  "  are  you  will- 
ing that  I  take  this  step,  and  that  I  sacrifice 
every  thing — slaves,  lands,  home,  money, 
and  life,  if  need  be — in  the  cause  of  the 
Union  ?" 

"  I  am,  Henry.  I  am  willing  to  give  up 
every  thing,  and  I  trust  that  you  may  never 
change." 

"  Then  from  this  day  forward  I  will  serve 
that  cause  to  the  extent  of  my  ability,  with 
my  tongue,  my  pen,  my  means,  and  my 
sword,  if  I  can.  I  see  the  error  of  my 
way.  I  have  halted  long  between  the  wrong 
and  the  right,  but  now  that  I  have  taken 
the  step,  you  shall  never  have  occasion  to 
accuse  me  of  turning  back." 


40 


BOB    BRANT,    PATRIOT    AND    SPY. 


"  God  bless  you,  my  husband !" 

"  God  bless  you,  father !" 

Mabel  Mercer  stepped  up  and  kissed  her 
father's  band,  and  glided  out  of  the  door, 
followed  by  Brant. 

"  I  am  glad,  Robert,"  said  she,  "  that 
you  did  not  witness  what  happened  to 
father." 

"  So  am  I ;  but  I  am  also  glad  that  I  did 
witness  what  has  happened  to  him  just 
now." 

"  Well,  it  is  better  to  be  kicked  and  slapped 
into  being  a  Union  man,  than  not  to  be  one 
at  all." 

"  Much  better ;  but  we  will  not  tell  him 
so." 

"  Oh,  no !" 

"When  they  had  talked  a  few  moments, 
Major  Mercer  came  out,  accompanied  by 
Charley.  The  Major  was  looking  unusually 
bright  and  cheerful,  and  stepped  more 
freely,  as  if  he  had  thrown  off  a  great 
load. 

"  Lieutenant-Colonel  Brant,"  said  he,  "  I 
understand  from  this  young  Major-General 
Mercer  that  you  are  acting  as  his  Chief  of 
Artillery  and  Engineers,  and  I  desire  to  ask 
permission  to  visit  your  fortifications." 

"  Certainly,  sir,  and  we  are  prepared  to 
deliver  up  to  you  the  command  of  the  gar- 
rison, in  virtue  of  your  rank." 

The  three  then  proceeded  to  inspect  the 
smoke-house. 

"  This  smoke-house,  as  it  was  called,  stood 
about  one  hundred  yards  from  the  dwelling- 
house,  and  was  a  stout  log  building,  some 
twenty  feet  square,  or  more.  It  was  a 
smoke-house  only  in  name,  as  it  had  never 
been  used  for  that  purpose,  but  principally 
for  storing.  It  had  a  large  and  deep  cellar, 
which  in  winter  commonly  contained  the 
vegetable  supplies  of  the  family.  There 
was  a  small  addition  at  one  end,  which 
covered  the  door.  There  was  but  one  small 
window,  with  a  wooden  shutter.  Brant  and 
young  Mercer  had  carefully  loopholed  the 
building  for  musketry,  and  had  made  ample 
arrangements  for  ventilation  just  under  the 
roof,  and  near  the  floor.  They  had  also 
strengthened  the  window-shutter  and  the 
door  by  thicknesses  of  planking.  Thus  the 
building  was  in  an  admirable  condition  for 
defense,  being  impervious  to  musket  or  rifle 
bullets,  and  was  available  for  a  siege  against 
any  thing  but  artillery. 

Major  Mercer  surveyed  the  arrangements 
with  the  eye  of  a  connoisseur,  and  expressed 
himself  highly  satisfied. 


"  "Well,  young  gentlemen,  I  must  confess 
that  I  do  not  at  present  see  how  your  forti- 
fication can  be  improved  upon.  You  bave 
certainly  arranged  every  thing  as  I  should 
wish  to  have  it  arranged.  It  puzzles  me 
how  you  can  have  done  all  this  without  my 
knowledge." 

"Nothing  easier,  father,  as  you  never 
came  near  here." 

"  Ah  !  I  suppose  so.  All  we  can  ask  in 
addition  to  our  means  of  defense  would  be 
plenty  of  provisions  and  ammunition,  and 
some  more  men." 

"  We  have  plenty  of  men,  father.  There 
is  old  Pharaoh ;  I  know  he  can  shoot  well ; 
and  so  can  Harry  and  Pete,  for  I  have  often 
had  them  out  hunting  with  me." 

"  What,  my  son,  shall  we  rely  upon  our 
niggers  to  fight  for  us  ?" 

"  Certainly,  sir,  if  they  are  able  and  will- 
ing to  do  it." 

"  To  be  sure,  my  boy.  I  had  forgotten. 
Tbey  are  surely  good  enough  to  fight  against 
rebels,  and  for  their  homes.  I  would  be 
glad  to  have  one  of  them  shoot  the  man 
who  kicked  me,  though  I  would  rather  do  it 
myself.  In  what  condition  is  the  ordnance 
department  ?" 

"  Not  first-rate.  We  have  two  rifles  and 
a  shot-gun,  that  I  know  of,  and  Mr.  Brant 
and  I  have  each  two  revolvers.  We  have 
rim  plenty  of  bullets,  and  have,  I  think,  a 
fair  supply  of  powder." 

"  Indeed !  I  must  give  you  credit  for 
meaning  war  in  earnest.  Wait  a  moment; 
or  rather  come  to  the  house,  and  let  me 
show  you  something." 

Hastening  into  the  house,  the  Major 
brought  out  a  fine  mahogany  case,  which, 
on  being  opened,  disclosed  a  fine,  short- 
barrelled,  German  rifle,  in  parts,  with  all 
its  appurtenances  complete,  and  in  excellent 
condition. 

"  There,  young  gentlemen,"  said  the  Ma- 
jor, putting  it  together,  and  eyeing  it  lov- 
ingly, "  is  as  sweet  a  piece  as  either  of  yon 
ever  saw,  I  suppose.  I  bought  it  for  hunt- 
ing bears  in  Arkansas.  I  don't  remember 
how  far  off  it  will  kill  a  bear,  but  it  is  a 
great  distance.  Let  me  see  what  my  eye- 
sight is  good  for  now." 

He  then  carefully  loaded  the  piece,  pointed 
out  a  bird  sitting  upon  a  limb,  at  such  a 
distance  that  good  eyes  were  needed  to  see 
it,  took  a  deliberate  aim,  and  fired.  The 
bark  flew  from  the  limb  near  where  the  bird 
stood. 

"  Oh  1"  said  the  Major,  "  I  am  not  what 


WOODWORTH   VISITS   THE   GARRISON. 


41 


I  used  to  be,  but  that  little  bird  is  not  a 
man." 

°  You'll  do,  father  I"  exclaimed  Charley, 
clapping  his  parent  on  the  shoulder.  "  And 
now,  if  you  will  attend  to  provisioning  the 
fortress,  we  will  see  what  else  there  is  to  be 
done." 

"  There  is  one  thing  forgotten,  young 
gentlemen.     You  have  no  colors." 

"  Haven't  we,  though  ?     Ask  Mabel." 

The  next  day  Bob  Brant  was  surprised  by 
the  appearance  of  old  Bill  Woodworth,  who 
brought  two  fine  breech-loading  rifles. 

"  Thar,  Mr.  JBrant,"  said  the  old  scout ; 
"  one  o'  them  is  fur  you,  an'  t'other  is  fur 
yer  friend.  They  say  in  the  camps  that  they're 
mighty  nice  shootin' -irons,  but  fur  my  part 
I  don't  want  to  be  troubled  with  none  o' 
them  new-fangled  tricks.  I  stick  to  my 
old  long  barrel,  an'  I  ken  pull  down  e'en 
a'most  anythin'  with  her.  The  boy  Jake — 
do  you  know  that's  turnin'  out  to  be  a 
wumierful  peart  little  nigger  ? — hunted  me 
out  and  told  me  what  you  was  a-contrivin' 
yere,  an'  I  'lowed  I'd  look  in  on  yer.  So  I 
got  permish'n,  and  was  give  these  yere  tools 
to  bring  you.  I  ken  jest  tell  ye,  Mr.  Brant, 
that  somebody  ye  knows  on  is  mighty  tickled 
about  the  work  ye  done  up  thar  to  Donelson, 
an'  hoped  yer  wound  wouldn't  be  bad.  I 
lowed  thar  was  somethin'  up  yere  that 
hurted  ye  wuss'n  that,  but  didn't  let  on. 
Now,  good-by,  an'  mind  to  keep  a  sharp 
look-out  for  them  guerilla  thieves.  This 
kentry's  mighty  hot  with  'em  jest  now,  but 
it  won't  be  many  days  afore  they're  all 
cl'ared  out;'  sure's  I'm  livin'  an'  a  white 
man.    Hold  up,  now ;  if  I  ain't  a  forgittin'." 

The  old  man  then  unloaded  from  his 
capacious  pockets  a  quantity  of  cartridges, 
and  some  canisters  of  rifle-powder. 

"  Thar,  then.  Part  on  'em  is  cartridges, 
an'  the  rest  is  powder,  and  as  you  onder- 
stand  that  sort  o'  guns,  Mr.  Brant,  you 
ken  make  more  cartridges.     Now,  I'm  off." 

Refusing  young  Mercer's  pressing  invita- 
tion to  stop  and  take  a  "  a  bite  and  a  sup," 
the  honest  old  scout  "  loped "  off,  his  long 
legs  getting  over  the  ground  more  rapidly 
than  those  of  many  younger  men  could  have 
done. 

The  boy  Jake  had  "  turned  up  "  directly 
after  the  departure  of  the  rebels,  with  his 
face  covered  with  corn  meal,  to  the  great 
astonishment  and  indignation  of  old  Pharaoh, 
who  "Declar'd  ef  he  didn't  b'lieve  that 
mizzable  young  nigger  had  been  an'  crep 
into  one  of  Missis'  meal  bags  f '     Bat  as  he 


had  not  been  caught  in  the  act,  he  was  not 
molested,  and  went  his  way  rejoicing.  The 
day  after  the  arrival  of  old  Bill  Woodworth, 
Brant  wished  the  boy,  fbr  some  purpose  of 
his  own,  but  he  was  not  to  be  found.  He 
was  searched  for,  all  over  the  place,  but  did 
not  make  his  appearance  during  the  day. 
Old  Pharaoh  was  triumphant. 

"  Thar,  now,  Massa  Brant,"  said  he, 
"  didn't  I  tole  ye  that  ar  young  nigger  wan't 
no  'count  ?  Ef  you'd  jest  luff  em  long  o' 
me,  I'd  'a  made  a  useful  boy  outer  him. 
It's  hard  trainin'  that  stock  o'  niggers,  but 
I'd  'a  tanned  his  hide  fur  him,  till  he'd  'a 
been  glad  to  stay  put  some'eres."  .. 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  '  that  stock  of 
niggers,'  Pharaoh?" 

"  Jest  them  low-raised  niggers,  like  that 
yere  boy,  Jake,  raised  in  low  families,  an' 
with  no  breedin'  into  'em." 

"  But  you  can  have  nothing  to  say  against 
that  boy,  Pharaoh.  He  is  free.  He  does 
not  belong  to  me,  or  to  any  one.  Wood- 
worth  took  him  from  his  master,  who  was  a 
mean  traitor,  and  confiscated  him;  so  he 
belongs  either  to  himself  or  to  the  United 
States." 

"  Then  luff  the  'Nited  States  take  car  on 
him,  Massa  Brant,  an'  not  hev  him  a-runnin' 
round  loose,  so.  A  boy  like  him  has  got  to 
b'long  to  somebody." 

"  Pharaoh,  I  am  astonished  to  hear  you 
speak  so,  when  I  know  that  you  believe  in 
freedom." 

"  Yes,  Massa  Brant ;  jest  so.  So  Tse 
'stonished  at  myself.  Goramighty's  bressed 
freedom  is  for  all,  to  be  sure,  even  for  sech 
as  him.  Sometimes  I  think,  an'  sometimes 
again  I  don't  think,  that  Goramighty's  free- 
dom is  a  great  thing.  But  that  ar  little 
nigger,  Massa  Brant,  needs  somebody  to  take 
car  o'  him,  an'  train  him  up." 

"  Well,  Pharaoh,  perhaps  he  has  gone  off 
with  Woodworth." 

"  P'raps  he  has.  Thank  the  Lord  I  ain't 
'sponsible  for  him." 

In  the  meantime,  the  fortification  of  the 
smoke-house  was  completed,  and  all  other 
preparations  were  made,  to  meet  a  sudden 
attack.  Major  Mercer  sent  to  a  place  of 
safety  the  few  negroes  he  had  upon  the 
farm,  saving  only  old  Pharaoh,  Harvey, 
Pete,  and  two  other  able-bodied  men,  to- 
gether with  Aunt  Jule  and  a  girl.  He 
provisioned  the  smoke-house,  and  conveyed 
to  it  the  arms  and  ammunition,  and  such 
of  his  valuables  asixoukl  be  spared  from 
the  house,   for  whifcji    ST^pie  •«  joorn   was 


42 


BOB   BRANT,    PATRIOT    AND    SPY. 


found  in  the  cellar.  Brant,  Charley  Mercer, 
and  old  Pharaoh,  continued  to  scout  and 
watch  for  guerillas. 


CHAPTER    XX. 

The  Siege  of  the  Smoke-house. 

During  three  days  after  the  departure  of 
Jake,  the  "  outpost "  was  undisturbed,  but 
on  the  morning  of  the  fourth  old  Pharaoh 
was  confounded,  and  Brant's  belief  was  veri- 
fied, by  We  return  of  the  boy  in  hot  haste, 
with  a  message  from  Woodworth,  to  the 
effect  that  they  must  move  into  the  smoke- 
house immediately,  and  expect  an  attack. 
When  the  boy  had  been  given  something  to 
eat  and  drink — for  he  seemed  to  be  half 
famished,  and  nearly  worn  out — he  repeated 
the  story  that  Woodworth  had  told  him,  as 
nearly  as  he  could.  It  appeared  that  the 
rebels  had  discovered  that  the  family  of 
Major  Mercer  was  a  Union  family,  and  that 
it  contained  a  son — Charles — who  would  be 
an  excellent  subject  for  conscription.  It 
also  seemed  that  old  Mike  Curwin,  intent 
on  revenge  and  blood  money,  had'  been 
spying  around,  and  had  learned,  or  had  rea- 
son to  suspect,  that  Brant  was  harbored  at 
the  house.  But  the  most  important  part,  a 
part  that  could  only  be  dimly  guessed  at 
through  the  indistinct  account  of  the  boy, 
was  that  Brant's  character  had  become  fully 
known,  as  well  as  his  connection  with 
Major  Mercer,  and  an  order  had  been  sent 
from  Jackson  for  the  arrest  of  his  guest, 
dead  or  alive.  Consequently  a  strong  guer- 
illa party  had  set  out  from  camp  for  that 
purpose. 

On  receiving  this  intelligence,  it  was  the 
work  of  but  a  few  moments  to  move  into 
the  smoke-house,  and  all  due  preparations 
were  made  in  a  very  short  time. 

"  Major  Mercer,"  said  Brant,  when  they 
were  in  the  building,  "  I  feel  that  I  have 
brought  this  upon  you — in  fact,  I  kuow 
that  I  have — and  I  am  sorry  to  have  been 
the  cause  of  much  suffering  and  loss  to 
you." 

"  Not  a  bit  of  it,  6ir.  Not  a  bit  of  it. 
K  you  have  been,  in  any  manner,  the  cause 
of  what  has  happened  to  me,  you  desfVve 
my  everlasting  esteem,  and  I- 'thank,  you  for 
it.  I  never  felt  better  in  my  life  than  I  do 
now — never  felt  half  &&  free  or  so  happy. 
If  they  fif^at  as,  as  %  suppose  they  will,  I 


am  confident  that  we  will  beat  them,  as  sure 
of  it  as  I  am  standing  here." 

"  I  hope  so,  sir,  and  will  do  my  best  to 
make  your  words  good." 

"  I  stand  corrected,  my  boy.  You  young 
ones  are  always  teaching  me  something, 
against  my  will.  Let  us  not  be  too  confi- 
dent, but  put  our  trust  in  God  and  our 
good  cause,  and  keep  our  powder  dry. 
Now,  let  us  look  to  our  arms  and  ammu- 
nition." 

The  arms  were  distributed  as  follows: 
The  Major  had  his  German  rifle,  and  Brant 
and  Charley  were  armed  with  those  which 
Woodworth  had  brought.  To  old  Pharaoh 
was  given  a  common  country  rifle,  and  to 
Harvey  another.  Both  were  skilled  in  the 
use  of  this  weapon.  Pete  had  the  shot-gun, 
well  loaded  with  buck-shot  and  ball,  but 
was  instructed  not  to  use  it  except  at  easy 
range.  The  boy,  Jake,  and  the  other  two 
black  men,  were  to  assist  as  they  could.  Mrs. 
Mercer  and  Mabel,  Aunt  Jule  and  the  girl, 
were  in.  readiness  to  descend  into  the  cellar 
if  an  attack  should  commence.  The  build- 
ing was  lighted  partly  by  the  ventilation 
holes  under  the  roof,  and  partly  by  lanterns. 

Thus  all  things  were  in  readiness,  and 
watches  were  set  upon  the  road,  and  the 
little  party  waited  patiently  for  an  attack. 
But  noon  came,  and  no  enemy,  and  all  ex- 
cept the  watchers  ate  heartily  of  a  good 
cold  dinner.  The  appetite  of  Major  Mercer 
was  excellent,  and  he  was  in  fine  spirits. 

But  they  were  not  allowed  to  remain 
much  longer  in  suspense.  Harvey  and 
little  Jake  shortly  came  in,  and  brought  the 
news  that  a  body  of  horsemen  was  coming 
up  the  road,  with  a  flag  flying.  The  doors 
were  closed  and  barred,  and  the  women 
were  sent  below,  while  the  men  took  their 
stations. 

The  horsemen  soon  came  in  sight,  a  loose 
and  straggling  crowd  of  men,  riding  with 
scarcely  any  attempt  at  order  or  discipline. 
They  appeared  to  number  a  hundred,  or 
more.  In  the  front  were  a  few  files  of 
regular  rebel  cavalry,  but  the  rest  were  un- 
mitigated guerillas,  of  the  worst  stamp, 
with  scarcely  any  attempt  at  uniform,  and 
with  all  sorts  of  arms.  They  were  halted 
in  front  of  the  house,  which  stood  at  a  little 
distance  from  the  road,  and  three  men,  dis- 
mounting, went  up  and  knocked  at  the 
door.  Receiving  no  reply,  they  shouted  back 
to  their  officer : 

"  They  won't  answer,  Captain." 

u  Then  burst  in  the  door." 


TH#,  FIGHT   JN   PROGRESS. 


That  was  quickly  done,  anc'l  the  men 
disappeared  within  the  house.  In  about 
ten  minutes  they  came  out,,  and  again 
ahouted  j 

"  No  one  here,  Captain-  Th<  s  birds  have 
flown. 

"  They  can't  have  flown  far.  They  must 
be  about  here  somewhere." 

"My  God!"  exclaimed  Ma;jor  Mercer, 
"that  officer  ia  the  man  who  kicked  me. 
Til  shoot  him  while  I  can£ 

"No,  father,"  said  Charley,  seizing  the 
Major's  arm  as  he  grasped  his  rifle,  "we 
should  not  draw  them  upon  us  unneces- 
sarily." 

"  Don't  touch  me,  boy ;  I  Will." 

The  Major  put  his  rifle  out  of  the  loop- 
hole, and  fired  hastily.  He  had  not  taken 
proper  aim,  but  the  officer's  horse  was  seen 
to  stagger,  and  then  fall.  The  xider,  how- 
ever, rose,  and  poiuted  toward  the  smoke 
house  with  his  sword.  He  then  withdrew 
his  men  a  short  distance,  and  appeared  to 
hold  a  consultation  with  some  iof  them. 

Shortly  one  of  the  number  issued  from 
their  disorderly  ranks,  mounted  1,  and  carry- 
ing a  white  handkerchief  or  .rag  upon  a 
stick.  Major  Mercer  moimted  upon  a  box, 
and  put  his  head  through  a  trap  in  the  roof, 
which  had  been  arranged  for  the  purpose 
of  reconnoitering.  When  tho  rebels  had 
approached  within  speaking  distance,  he 
hailed  him : 

"  Don't  come  any  nearer  1  'Who  are  you, 
and  what  do  you  want  ?" 

The  man  halted  his  horse,  and  an- 
swered : 

"  I  come  from  Captain  Woolson,  of  the 
Kentucky  Rangers,  to  demand  the  surren- 
der of  Major  Henry  Mercer,  his  son, 
Charles,  and  a  Yankee  spy,  naime  unknown, 
and  satisfaction  for  firing  on  the  flag  of  the 
Confederacy." 

"  Tell  Captain  Woolson,  if  he  is  a  Cap- 
tain, that  I,  Henry  Mercer,  rrefuse  to  ac- 
knowledge his  authority,  or  that  of  any 
traitor.  Tell  him,  also,  that  I  fired  upon 
him,  and  struck  his  horse,  and  will  be 
pleased  to  have  him  come  a  little  nearer, 
so  that  I  can  manage  to  put  a  ball  through 
him." 

"  Captain  Woolson  also  instructed  me  to 
say  that  if  you  do  not  surrender  immedi- 
ately, he  will  burn  down  your  house,  and 
then  smoke  you  out  of  this  den." 

"Let  him  burn  I     He  will  suffer  for  it" 

The  Major  then  let  down  the  trap,  and 
the  man  returned  to  his  comrades. 


The  rebels  were  seen  to  divide,  and 
shortly  advanced  against  the  building  upon 
three  sides.  As  they  came,  Charley  Mercer 
quickly  ran  up,  through  an  aperture  in  the 
roof,  near  which  a  light  pole  was  fastened, 
the  beautiful  Union  flag  which  his  mother 
and  sister  had  made.  They  could  not  see 
it  floating  from  the  pole,  but  knew,  by  the 
yells  of  the  rebels,  that  it  was  plainly  visi- 
ble. Then  arose  from  the  smoke-house  the 
sound  of  the  manly  voices  of  Brant  and 
Charley  Mercer,  singing : 

"'Tia  the  star-spangled  banner,  oh,  long  may  it 

wave, 
O'er  the  land  of  the  free  and  the  home  of  the 

braTe." 

The  answer  was  a  yell  of  rage,  and  a 
volley  of  musket  and  rifle  balls,  that  rattled 
harmlessly  against  the  stqjit  sides  of  the 
building.  The  reply  from  the  smoke-house 
was  as  speedy,  and  far  more  effective.  The 
Major,  with  his  cartridges,  and  Brant  and 
Charley  with  their  breech-loading  rifles, 
loaded  and  fired  rapidly,  but  with  careful 
aim ;  while  old  Pharaoh  and  Harvey  rammed 
down  their  bullets,  and  worked  with  a  will 
that  showed  they  were  deserving  of  life,  if 
not  of  freedom. 

The  dismounted  rebels  soon  sought  what 
cover  they  could,  but  continued  their  fire, 
showing  a  contempt  of  danger  that  would 
have  been  admirable  in  a  better  cause. 
Three  of  their  bullets  had  entered  the  loop- 
holes, but  no  harm  had  been  done,  except 
the  clipping  off  of  a  piece  of  old  Pharaoh's 
ear.  The  main  body,  however,  soon  with- 
drew out  of  range,  and  then  the  flames 
were  seen  to  issue  from  the  house.  As  the 
smoke  and  fire  ascended,  the  Major  jumped 
up  and  down  in  an  ecstacy. 

"  Let  it  burn !"  he  cried,  "  let  it  burn ! 
I  am  glad  of  it.  They  have  paid  for  it 
already,  if  their  miserable  lives  are  worth 
any  thing." 

While  the  house  was  burning,  there  was 
a  temporary  lull  in  the  attack,  interrupted 
only  by  a  few  dropping  shots  from  the  rebel 
marksmen.  As  Charley  Mercer  was  peer- 
ing through  a  loophole,  he  perceived  a  man 
crawling  over  the  ground  near  them,  and 
occasionally  leaping  on  under  cover  of  the 
smoke. 

"  There  is  a  skulking  scoundrel,"  said  he. 
"  I  will  soon  fix  his  flint  for  him." 

"  No,  Massa  Charles ;  don't  shoot  I"  cried 
Jake,  who  was  also  on  the  lookout."  "It's 
Massa  Bill !  it's  Massa  Bill !" 

The  crawler  suddenly  bounded  up,  and 


14 


BOB   BRANT,   PATRIOT  AND   SPY. 


sprung  toward  the  building.  He  was  in- 
stantly discovered  by  the  rebels,  and  several 
voices  cried : 

"It's  old  Woodworth !  Shoot  him  down." 

They  then  appeared  from  their  places  of 
concealment,  and  twenty  bullets  whistled 
around  the  old  scout,  but  he  was  unharmed, 
while  the  guerillas  paid  dearly  for  their  te- 
merity. Brant  and  Charley  speedily  opened 
the  door  for  him,  and  barred  it  behind  him. 

"  Hope  ye're  all  alive  and  safe,"  said  the 
old  man,  as  he  entered.  "  I  was  kinder 
'feared  I  couldn't  git  to  ye  'thout  losin'  old 
Bess,"  —  showing  his  long  rifle  —  but  I 
brought  her  safe  through.  Te  can't  tell 
what  a  splendid  guide  that  flag  o'  yourn 
was  to  me,  through  the  smoke !" 

The  old  man  was  heartily  welcomed,  and 
consented  to  eat  something,  his  voracity 
showing  that  he  needed  refreshment.  Major 
Mercer  then  served  out  rations  of  brandy, 
and  the  defenders  of  the  fort  rested  from 
their  labors,  with  the  exception  of  watchers 
at  the  loopholes  at  each  angle,  who  occa- 
sionally took  a  shot  at  the  skulking  guerilla. 

"  Te've  fit  'em  off  right  well,  Major,"  said 
Woodworth,  "  an'  I  reckon  ye  ken  keep  on 
doin'  it,  as  ye're  well  fixed.  I  don't  think 
they'll  be  apt  to  trouble  us  agin  afore  night." 
.  "  I  am  of  the  same  opinion,"  said  Brant. 
"  I  think  they  are  preparing  for  a  night  at- 
tack.    I  wish  we  had  some  hand-grenades." 

"  The  best  thing  ye  ken  do  is  to  git  all 
the  rest  ye  ken,  till  they  come  on  agin. 
One  o'  these  yere  niggers  an'  I  ken  keep 
good  enough  watch  onto  'em." 

The  garrison  then  made  themselves  as 
easy  and  comfortable  as  circumstances  would 
permit ;  and  the  day  wore  away  into  the 
night,  without  any  special  molestation.  The 
night  was  cloudy  and  dark,  and  "Woodworth 
at  last  told  them  that  they  had  better  hold 
themselves  in  readiness  for  any  emergency. 

"  Hev  yer  pistols  ready,"  said  he,  "  an' 
knives  ef  ye've  got  'em,  fur  it  may  come  to 
close  work.  Hark  I  I  hear  somethin',  but 
can't  see  nothin'." 

The  words  were  hardly  out  of  his  mouth, 
when  there  was  a  great  crash  against  the 
door,  and  it  was  nearly  burst  from  its 
hinges.  The  little  garrison  was  taken  by 
surprise,  but  had  their  wits  about  them 
when  the  next  crash  came,  and  the  door 
fell.  Brant  sprung  at  the  opening,  pistol  in 
hand,  but  his  foot  slipped,  and  he  had  nearly 
fallen.  A  stalwart  guerilla  raised  a  huge 
bowie-knife,  and  that  moment  would  have 
been  the  last  of  Bob  Brant's  life,  had  not  the 


boy  Jake  suddenly  leaped  up  before  him, 
and  the  heavy  knife  sunk  into  the  black 
boy's  brain  with  a  dull,  sickening  crash. 
The  next  instant  the  rifle  of  old  Bill  sung 
death  to  tho  guerilla ;  and  then  the  negro 
Pete  proved  himself  the  man  for  the  emer- 
gency, by  discharging  both  barrels  of  his 
shot-gun  into  the  crowd  that  was  pressing 
into  the  dootway.  The  effect  was  terrible, 
resembling  that  of  a  charge  of  canister,  and 
driving  them  back  with  shrieks  and  yells. 
Old  Bill  sprting  through  the  doorway,  with 
brandished  knife,  followed  by  the  rest,  and 
a  fierce  hand-to-hand  fight  ensued,  in  which 
the  rebels,  who  had  not  yet  recovered  from 
the  dose  givea.  them  by  Pete,  became  panic 
stricken,  and  fled  in  dismay.  The  victori- 
ous garrison  then  hastily  reentered  the 
building,  canying  in  their  dead  and  wound- 
ed. The  dead  proved  to  be  Harvey  and  the 
boy  Jake.  Pete  was  severely  wounded,  and 
the  rest  had',  not  escaped.  Charley  Mercer 
had  an  ugly  gash  on  his  arm,  and  Brant 
had  been  momentarily  stunned  by  a  blow 
on  the  head.  The  body  of  Harvey  was 
then  placed  'within  the  small  addition,  and 
the  door  was  more  securely  barricaded. 
When  Jake  ivas  examined,  he  was  found  to 
be  still  alive1,  but  was  senseless,  and  soon 
breathed  his  Jast. 

"  Thar,  now,"  said  old  Bill,  "  lies  a  little 
nigger  as  I  must  confess  I  was  disapp'inted 
into.  I  didn't  reckon  he'd  got  so  much 
grit.  He's  free  now,  poor  feller,  but  it's 
sartin  he  arat  Jiis  freedom  in  this  life, 
though  he  didn't  git  to  see  much  of  it." 

Brant  bent  ovsr  the  black  face,  and  tears 
came  in  his  eyes. 

"He  died  to  save  my  life,  and  he  did 
save  it.  Do  yon  think  he  needed  taking 
care  of,  Pharaoh  ?  He  has  gone  now  where 
he  will  be  well  taken  of  forever." 

"Now,  Mussa  Brant,  donty  say  that! 
Donty  say  it  jest  now.  I  wish  I  hadn't 
never  said  nathin'  agin  that  poor  boy,  but  I 
was  kinder  sot  agin  that  stock  o'  niggers." 

"  We're  well  outer  that  scrape"  said  old 
Bill,  "But  'twas  hot  work.  They'll  be 
keerful  not  to  come  near  us  agin  to-night, 
arter  that  scrimmage.  Let's  take  a  drop  o' 
suthin'  all  round,  an'  be  ready  fur  'em  in 
the  mornin'." 

The  fort  was  then  "  put  to  rights,"  though 
not  in  the  female  sense  of  the  phrase,  and 
the  ladies,  with  Aunt  Jule  and  the  girl, 
were  invited  up  to  breathe  such  air  as  the 
inside  of  the  house  afforded. 

Charley  Mercer's  arm  was  bound  up  and 


THE  BATTLE  CONTINUED. 


45 


placed  in  a  sling,  but  he  laughed  at  the 
hurt,  and  said  that  he  would  show  them  in 
the  morning,  if  he  had  a  chance,  that  he 
could  use  his  rifle  yet. 


CHAPTER    XXI. 

The  Siege  Raised. 

As  "Woodworth  had  predicted,  the  garri- 
son was  not  again  disturbed  during  the 
night.  At  the  first  dliwn  of  day,  all  eyes 
were  strained  to  obtaiu  a  view  of  the  ene- 
my. Charley  Mercer  at  first  exclaimed 
that  they  had  all  gone,  but  he  was  soon 
undeceived  by  the  old  scout,  whose  practiced 
eye  perceived  men  still  lurking  around,  and 
he  knew  that  the  main  body  could  not  be 
far  off.  They  had  taken  advantage  of  the 
night  to  carry  off  their  (lead  and  wounded, 
so  that  those  in  the  smoke-house  had  no 
means  of  ascertaining  the  amount  of  damage 
they  had  inflicted. 

"  Thar's  some  deviltry  goin'  on  now, 
'mong  them  chaps,"  said  Woodworth,  after 
a  careful  survey  of  the  situation,  an'  it  won't 
be  long  afore  they  let  us  know  what  they're 
up  to,  neither." 

He  was  right,  for  they  had  hardly  had 
time  to  eat  a  hasty  breakfast,  when  the 
rebels  were  again  seen  defiling  up  the  road. 
They  had  evidently  been  reinforced,  for 
more  men  in  uniform  were  among  them, 
and  this  time,  to  the  dismay  of  the  party  in 
the  smoke-house,  they  brought  a  small  braes 
cannon  on  wheels. 

"  I'm  'feared  it's  all  up  with  us  now,  Mr. 
Brant,"  said  the  old  scout,  with  a  sigh,  "  ef 
that  thing  '11  shoot  any  ways  far ;  but  we 
ken  jest  die  like  men." 

"  I  am  not  so  sure  of  that,"  answered 
Bob.  "  That  gun  does  not  seem  to  be  more 
than  a  four-pounder,  and  they  can  hardly 
hurt  us  much  without  shell,  which  they  are 
not  likely  to  have.  We  can  give  them 
trouble  yet." 

"  That's  true,  sir,  but  a  four-pound  ball 
mought  smash  even  these  yere  logs,  and  I've 
beam  that  splinters  are  awful  things." 

The  rebels  soon  placed  their  gun  in  posi- 
tion in  the  road,  and  the  marksmen  scattered 
around  the  building  and  commenced  to  fire 
at  the  loopholes. 

"Now,  Mr.  Brant,"  said  the  old  scout, 
"do  you  an'  old  Pharaoh  'tend  to  them 
chaps  'round  the  house  as  well  as  ye  ken, 


an'  the  Major  an'  Til  jest  bother  that  pop- 
gun a  bit.  Major,  you  mark  that  man  with 
the  rammer,  an'  I'll  take  him  with  the  fire." 

The  Major  took  a  long  aim,  and  as  the 
rebel  with  the  rammer  stood  in  front  of  the 
gun,  he  fired,  and  the  man  fell.  Another 
seized  the  rammer,  but  another  shot  was 
heard,  and  the  other  dropped  the  rammer 
and  limped  off.  The  last  shot  came  from 
Charley  Mercer,  who  had  thrown  aside  his 
sling,  and  proved  that  he  could  use  his  rifle 
yet.  Another  man  approached  the  gun 
with  the  rammer,  and  the  Major  fired  again, 
but  missed,  and  the  shot  was  rammed  home. 
As  the  man  with  the  match  stepped  up,  old 
Bill's  rifle  cracked,  and  he  fell  in  his  tracks. 

"Ef  I  don't  mistake,"  said  the  scout, 
"  that  feller  with  the  fire  ^  as  old  Mike  Cur- 
Win.  Ef  so  it  be,  thar's  one  cussed  sinner 
gone  to  his  account,  an'  a  hard  account 
'twill  be  fur  him,  I  reckon." 

The  rebels  hastily  withdrew  their  piece, 
and  fired,  but  the  shot  fell  short,  eliciting  a 
laugh  of  derision  from  the  garrison,  who 
now  directed  their  attention  to  the  scattered 
marksmen. 

But  those  in  charge  of  the  artillery  were 
not  to  be  foiled  so  easily.  They  soon  found 
a  partial  cover  for  the  gun,  much  nearer 
the  smoke-house  than  the  place  of  their  first 
attempt. 

"  We've  got  to  ketch  it  now,"  said  old 
Bill,  as  he  sighted^  his  long  rifle,  ready  to 
drop  the  first  man  who  showed  himself. 

Two  men  fell  under  the  close  aim  of  the 
scout  and  Major  Mercer,  before  the  piece 
was  loaded ;  but  when  it  was  fired,  the 
party  saw  cause  to  despair.  It  struck  the 
building  with  a  force  that  made  it  tremble, 
and  passed  through  the  wall.  It  was  a 
spent  shot  when  it  entered,  but  a  splinter 
struck  the  Major  on  the  head  and  laid  him 
senseless.  There  was  no  time  to  think  of 
him  then,  for  their  foes  were  pressing  them 
on  all  sides,  and  another  ball  from  tbe  gun 
passed  clear  through  the  logs,  scattering  the 
splinters  fearfully.  For  a  few  moments  the 
fire  of  the  gun  ceased,  as  some  person  of 
importance  appeared  to  have  fallen  before 
Woodworth' s  unerring  rifle. 

"  Mr.  Mercer,"  said  the  old  man,  "  you 
may  as  well  look  to  yer  father.  We'll  do 
what  we  ken,  but  that  thar  cussed  gun  is 
killin'  us." 

"  As  we  can  not  go  out  and  take  it,"  said 
Bob,  with  a  mournful  smile,  "  we  will  have 
to  stay  in  here  and  take  it." 

"Hark!"   exclaimed  the  scout,  eagerly 


46 


BOB    BRANT,    PATRIOT    AKD    SPY. 


placing  his  ear  to  the  ground.  "  I  hear  a 
tramplin',  like  horses.  Yes !  it's  horses, 
sure  as  yer  born,  an'  plenty  of  'em  too." 

"  More  rebels,  perhaps." 

"  I  don't  believe  it.  They  ain't  apt  to 
ride  that  reg'lar." 

"Is  it  Blucher  or  Grouchy ?  We  will 
soon  see."  As  Bob  spoke,  he  fired  at  a 
rebel  who  was  loading  the  gun,  and  more 
by  good  luck  than  aim,  brought  him  down. 

Just  then  there  came  a  roaring  cheer 
down  the  road,  followed  by  a  rattling  volley, 
and  the  rebels  left  their  gun,  threw  down 
their  arms,  and  stampeded  in  all  directions, 
as  a  squadron  of  Union  cavalry  came  in  sight. 
The  cavalrymen  scattered  after  them,  cut- 
ting them  down  and  capturing  them  right 
and  left. 

"  Did  you  know  Fort  Henry  was  taken, 
you  rebel  wretches?"  shouted  a  Union 
officer  as  he  galloped  after  the  retreating 
guerillas. 

The  door  of  the  smoke-house  was  thrown 
open ;  the  women  were  brought  up  from  the 
cellar,  and  the  remainder  of  the  garrison 
emerged  and  greeted  their  deliverers.  Major 
Mercer  was  brought  out  into  the  open  air, 
where  he  soon  revived,  but  there  was  an 
ugly  woimd  in  his  head. 

Woodworth  was  recognized  by  the  officer 
in  command  of  the  squadron,  who  informed 
him  that  Fort  Henry  had  fallen,  and  the 
victorious  army  of  Grant  and  the  victorious 
gunboats  of  Foote  were  on  their  way  to 
Donelson.  The  news  seemed  too  good  to 
be  true.  The  officer  said  that  he  was  on  a 
reconnoitering  expedition,  when  he  was  at- 
tracted to  the  spot  by  the  firing  of  the  can- 
non. Thus,  that  which  seemed  about  to 
prove  their  ruin,  had  in  reality  proved  their 
salvation. 


It  only  remained  to  gather  up  the  frag- 
ments, and  seek  a  place  of  safety.  The 
bodies  of  Harvey  and  the  boy  Jake  were 
buried  near  where  they  fell,  and  the  graves 
were  properly  marked.  The  wounded  Ma- 
jor and  Pete  were  p]  aced  in  litters  and  car- 
ried by  a  detail  of  the  soldiers  to  the  resi- 
dence of  Mrs.  Mercor's  brother,  where  the 
rest  of  the  family  followed  them. 

Bob  Brant  accompanied  them  to  the 
house,  but  did  not  remain,  as  he  considered 
it  his  duty  now,  more  than  ever,  to  be  with 
the  army.  Accordingly  he  bid  them  fare- 
well, and  made  a  second  visit  to  Donelson. 
In  the  bloody  battLe  which  ensued,  he  dis- 
tinguished himself,  and  rendered  efficient 
services,  as  a  volunteer  aid.  He  entered  the 
fort  in  triumph  thfo  time,  but  with  the  loss 
of  his  left  arm,  which  was  taken  off  by  a 
shell.  It  was  more  than  a  month  before  he 
coidd  go  to  Mabel,  to  be  nursed  again,  but 
when  he  did,  he  was  happy  to  find  that  her 
love  was  not  at  all  diminished,  but  rather 
increased,  by  the  loss  of  his  arm.  In  due 
time,  with  the  glad  concurrence  of  all  parties; 
they  were  married,  and  have  not  as  yet  seen 
any  reason  whatever  to  secede  from  that 
Union. 

Major  Mercer  recovered  a  large  portion 
of  his  property,  upon  the  Federal  occupation 
of  Jackson.  Charley  Mercer  entered  the 
Union  army,  and,  of  course,  distinguished 
himself. 

Old  Bill  Woodworth  lived  to  serve  his 
country  to  some  purpose.  With  that  pu- 
rity and  earnestness  of  nature  which  dis- 
tinguish the  true  patriot,  he  labored,  in  his 
humble  but  important  position,  steadily  and 
nobly.  Let  us  hope  to  make  our  readers 
better  acquainted  with  him  and  his  achieve- 
ments. 


\ 


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No.  181  BROADWAY,  N.     Y. 


O-.       1863.       IB. 

GOLDEN  BITTERS 


BANISH  THE  CAUSE  OF  HUMAN  MISERY. 


We  have  advised,  and  do  at  this  time,  all 
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Proprietors. 

Central  Depot,  American  Express  Building,  55  Hud- 
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DEDICATED  TO  MESSRS.  GEO.  C.  HUBBELL  &  CO. 

Go  where  you  will,  in  any  clime, 

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ADVERTISEMENTS. 


BEADLE'S 

D  I 


SONG-  BOOK, 

No.    12. 
SIXTY  NEW  AND  POPULAR  SONGS. 

THE  LATEST  PKODUCTIONS  OF 


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obtained  in  no  other  book.  Among  them  will  be 
found  the  last  piece  published  from  the  inimitable 
pen  of  Stephen  C.  Foster,  besides  a  choice  selec- 
tion from  the  hands  of  Thomas,  Glover,  Buckley, 
Root,  Lover,  Work,  and  many  others  famed  in 
chorus  and  song.  We  have  space  only  for  the  fol- 
lowing : 

THE  VACANT  CHAIR, 

JUST  BEFORE  THE  BATTLE.  MOTHER, 

YES,  I  WOULD  THE  WAR  WERE  OVER, 

BROTHERS  FAINTING  AT  THE  DOOR, 

JACK  ON  THE  GKEEN, 

JOHNNY  SCHMOKER, 

HE'S  GONE  TO  THE  ARMS  OF  ABRAHAM, 

FOOTSTEPS  ON  THE  STAIRS, 

THE  RING  MY  MOTHER  WORE, 

UNCLE  JOE'S  HAIL  COLUMBIA, 

ELLA  CLAY, 

COUSIN  JEDEDIAH, 

THE  HAM  FAT  MAN, 

BABYLON  IS  FALLEN, 

WHEN  OLD  FRIENDS  WERE  HERE, 

KATY'S  LETTER, 

BREAD  AND  CHEESE  AND  KISSES, 

THOU  WILT  COM  E  NEVERMORE  to  the  STREAM, 

WE'LL  GO  DOWN  OL'RSELVES, 

THE  BLUE  JAY'S  MELODY, 

THREE  ROGUISH  CHAPS, 

CUM  ALONG,  JOHN,  THE  PIPER'S  SON, 

OUR  CAPTAIN'S  LAST  WORDS, 

AH,  HE  KISSED  ME  WHEN  HE  LEFT  ME, 

ALL'S  WELL. 

THE  OLD  CHURCH  BELL, 

BLEEPING  FOR  THE  FLAG,  AND  33  OTHERS. 

dp  Price  10  cents.    Sent  post-paid  on  receipt  of 


BEADLE  &  00,,  Publishers, 


118  William  St.,  JT.  F 


50.000  AGENTS  WANTED ! 


RARE    OPPORTUNITY. 


75,000   WATCHES 

Gi-OLZD  FEISTS  Sz  PENCILS, 

YEST,  GUARD,  AND  NECK  CHAINS, 

CHATELAI1VE    CHAINS    AND    FINS, 

ENGRAVED  BRACELETS, 

ENGRAVED  SPRING  LOCKETS, 

Seal  Stone  Rings,  California  Rings,  Chased 
Rings,  Masonic  Rings  and  Pins,  Gents' 
California  Diamond  Pins,  Califor- 
nia Diamond  Ear  Drops, 

BEAUTIFUL    SETS    OF 

JEWELRY, 

STUDS  AND  BUTTONS,  &c. 

Worth  $400,000,  to  be  sold  for  One  Dollar  eaoh, 

without  regard  to  value,  and  not  to  be  paid  for  till 

you  know  what  you  are  to  get. 


In  all  transactions  by  mall  we  shall  charge  for  doing 
the  business  twenty-five  cents  each,  which  must  be  en- 
closed when  the  request  is  made  to  know  what  you  con 
have.  After  knowing  what  you  can  have  then  it  will  be 
at  your  option  to  send  One  Dollar,  take  the  article  or  not. 

Five  Certificates  can  be  ordered  for  One  Dollar,  eleven 
for  Two  Dollars,  thirty  for  Five  Dollars,  sixty-five  for 
Ten  Dollars,  and  one  hundred  for  Fifteen  Dollars. 

With  the  information  of  what  you  can  have  will  bo 
sent  a  Circular  giving  full  instructions  to  Agents,  and  a 
full  catalogue  of  articles,  and  then  it  will  be  at  your  op- 
tion to  send  and  get  the  article  or  not. 

Also,  for  One  Dollar  and  Fifty  Cents  we  will  send  you 
either  a  new  Artillery  or  Battery  Pin,  or  a  Naval  or 
Pontoneer'a  Pin,  or  the  new  Battle  Pin,  with  the  likenee* 
of  either  General  in  the  Army  and  the  principal  battles 
he  has  been  engaged  in. 

Also,  for  One  Dollar,  we  will  eend  a  Solid  Silver  Shield, 
or  either  Army  Corps,  Division,  or  Company  Pin,  with 
your  Name,  Kegiment,  and  Company  handsomely  en- 
graved thereon. 

S.  M.  WARD  &  CO., 

Manufacturing  Jewellers, 
Box  4976.  208  BROADWAY,  N.  Y. 


